Heuristics
by Fractured Artifact No. 248
Summary: James K. Polk Middle School has hired Ms. Frizzle to teach a new elective. She's willing to provide tips that will help you survive Life. Ned and Moze will need all the tips they can get when their easy friendship grows into something...more.
1. Separation

The United Confederation of People With Too Much Time On Their Hands

Present:

**Heuristics**

_a Chronicle of the Experiences of Students _

_Learning about Living on Planet Earth_

We present for your perusal, the account of the second semester of the senior class of James K. Polk Middle School. The principle characters are the writers of a 'School Survival Guide', a collection of tips designed to help students. The events described take place after Season 3: Episode 10: "Hallways and Friends Moving".

We are legally obligated to inform you we have no creative rights to anything we are writing about.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Separation<strong>

_"Some people just want to watch the world burn. In order to stymie them, we have covered most of the world's surface in water.___"__

* * *

><p>Principal Alistair Wright had hit pay dirt. He looked over the resume in his hands again. She had credentials. She had references. She had certification. She had experience. All in all, she was a far cry better than his 3 o'clock who had filled out the application in eye liner.<p>

For the past three days Principal Wright had been interviewing replacements for the position of... whatever. The word came down from the superintendent that a new State Law required them to teach one more elective than they were currently offering and all his teachers were overbooked as it was. He had drafted an add for anybody that could teach anything at a reasonable rate. So far, the best candidate had been a loan shark, who at least had the shortest criminal record.

Then she had come in. She was now seated in front of him across his desk. She was wearing a dress colored neon fuchsia and patterned with dancing panda bears. Her bright red hair could only be described as an explosion. In the face of the only actual teacher that had applied for the position, he was willing to forgive some eccentricities.

"Tell me," said Alistair, "Why did you leave your previous position at," he checked the resume, "Walkerville Elementary?"

"I left after my last class graduated." she answered. "I went to visit family in The Greater Andaman islands for a few months. When I came back I decided to teach older students for a change of pace."

"A change of pace is always healthy." said Alistair. "Personally, becoming principal was a spur of the moment decision on my part. So, if hired what class will you teach?"

"I thought you had an opening?" she asked.

"We do, but it's for a teacher, not a subject." Alistair answered.

"Ah," she thought for a moment. "Basket Weaving?"

"We don't have a wicker budget." said Alistair

"Ventriloquism?" she offered.

"The Teachers' Union is opposed to that." said Alistair.

"Sadism?" she ventured.

"That is being covered by Mr. De Sadé." said Alistair

She was quiet for a moment. "How about I teach them everything and see what sticks?"

"We need to bill it as something. What should we call it?" asked Alistair.

"Heuristics." she said. "The knowledge gained from experience."

"Perfect!" said Alistair. He stared writing something down on his note pad. "Winter break ends in another week. Can you start then?"

"Certainly," she said already on her way to the door.

He took another look at her resume. "How do you pronounce your name?"

She turned back and leaned against the door frame. "Frizzle," she said. "Valerie Frizzle."

* * *

><p>James K. Polk Middle School was being invaded by Zombies. Zombies that did not want to be there. Winter break had just ended and the reluctant students were shipped back to their classes for the new semester. Most of them were there in body only. One student in particular had come in with a bleeding, broken heart.<p>

Ned Bigby came wandering in like the Zombie that the other Zombies worried their child Zombies would become if they didn't get good grades in Brain Eating 101. He was as woebegone as a Polar Bear in the Kalahari desert. He was as desolate as Jewish Easter Egg. All in all, he's looked better.

The reason for his funk was, quite naturally a girl. "Not just any girl!" he'd tell you, "Suzie Crabgrass. The Girl of my Dreams. My One True Love." he'd say. He would also launch in to the tragic tale of how he had told him, before winter break began, that her father had accepted a job out of state and that her family was moving far, far away. He would then tell you about the last romantic week they'd spent together before he'd waved her off in her moving van.

At present, Jennifer 'Moze' Mosely was trying to bring him back to the world of the living.

"C'mon, snap out of it!" she said, dragging him to homeroom.

"Suzie used to snap..." Ned said forlornly.

"Yeah, she could snap, and breathe, and occupy space." she made it into the classroom and planted him in the seat next to her. "I miss Suzie, too. She was my best girlfriend." she stopped and thought. "In fact, she was my only girlfriend." She sat down in her seat, death spiraling into depression.

"All right, pay attention." Mr. Sweeney called from the front of the room. "For the first day of school you will be choosing which electives you want for the rest of the semester." he began passing out schedules. "You will spend half an hour in each of the electives offered so you can sample all of them. At the end of the day, you will choose the two you wish to take."

Mose looked at the schedule she was handed. She didn't even recognized some of the classes that were listed. Since when did the school offer 'Sadism'?

"Maybe this will help you get out of your funk. All these electives you're bound to find a new hobby you'll like." Moze said to Ned.

"Suzie had hobbies..." Ned groaned. Moze buried her face in her free hand.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the day, groups of students shuttled from one class to another. Each teacher did their best to sell their elective.<p>

The Psychology teacher told them about how they could use the power of suggestion to rake in money at fund-raisers.

Mr. Chopsaw showed them a china cabinet one of his students had built the previous semester. Moze was instantly sold on the class, despite the fact that she was the one who had built the cabinet.

The Art teacher showed them the 3D rendering software the school had just bought. Cookie was mesmerized by the beauty of sculpture in a no mess environment.

In Life Sciences they were introduced to the new babies that made realistic crying sounds and produced imitation urine and fecal matter. The class didn't attract any applicants but the chastity club did see an enrollment up-tick.

Shortly after lunch, Moze and Ned were by Moze's locker getting some down time before they had to head to the next elective on the list. She had taken to just dragging him around since he didn't really have the will to move. She couldn't really blame him. He had waited forever to go out with Suzie Crabgrass and now there was a ponderous state line and an extra time zone separating them. A part of her wanted to throttle him until the memory of Suzie Crabgrass fell out of the back of his head, but another part of her was cherishing the hope that somewhere out there was a person that would miss _her _this much if she was gone.

The bell rang. "C'mon," she said pulling him in the direction of their next class. "This next class is in room 102. I've never even _been _in room 102." She finally found it and took her seat, putting him down in his.

Eventually, everyone else filed in and was seated, but there was no sign of a teacher.

"This class is called _Heuristics." _asked Missy. "What are heuristics?"

In answer to her question, a sledge hammer came crashing through the chalkboard at the front of the room. Every one jumped up and ran to the back of the room, it even broke Ned out of his stupor. The sledge came through a few more times making a larger hole until a person could fit through it. Then, a person came through it.

It was a woman wearing pink safety goggles and a periwinkle jump suit. She had frizzy red hair that was just barely subdued by a rubber band.

"Good afternoon class," she said taking her goggles off. "Welcome to Heuristics. I am here to give you knowledge that you can apply to every waking moment of everyday life."

They all gaped at her from the safety of the back of the classroom. She must have been used to this kind of reception, because she continued unimpeded.

"For the rest of the semester I will be giving you tips, so to speak, that you can use in life. I've lived a long time and made many mistakes. In the interests of not wasting the time I spent, I learned from those mistakes. I'll tell you what I learned from my mistakes so you don't have make them yourselves. You can make your own mistakes. Then when you learn from those mistakes you'll know more than I do. Then you can pass on what you learned and what I taught you. If we continue this tradition from one generation to the next eventually we will yield a race of all knowing humans."

The class still hadn't relaxed their defensive stance. Cookie was inching toward the door.

"You may all take the rest of class time to mull over your decision." she said, and she went back to hacking at the wall.

* * *

><p>Ned sat outside at the lunch tables staring at the elective enrollment form he was supposed to be filling out. After pulling him around all day, Moze had left him somewhere that he wouldn't be in any danger while she went to get her cabinet from Mr. Chopsaw. If he was more attentive he would wonder how she was going to fit it in her back-pack.<p>

He wasn't attentive because all he could see was Suzie. Everything reminded him of his lost love. Everytime he closed his eyes he could see her face. He kept hearing her voice in the wind. Even right now he could hear her calling his name..._ Ned... Ned..._

"Ned!" he jumped, realizing the voice was very real. The mallet-wielding red head from Heuristics was sitting across from him. She was still covered in debris from the wall that once stood at the end of her room.

"How is the weather in wonderland?" she asked him.

"Dark and cold." he answered. "and there's no Suzie in it."

"And there's no sunshine when she's gone?" she asked.

"There will never be sunshine again." he said.

"Actually, I can guarantee that the Sun will come out tomorrow." she said. "Love is like having a sixth sense."

"What do you mean?" he asked

"When you love someone," she answered, "you feel things you didn't feel before. Things you couldn't feel before, or even dream about feeling. For the rest of your life you're going to care about people and feel new things. There's the familiar comfort you feel when you're around friends. The flying sensation you feel when you're slow dancing with someone you're falling for. Then there's the earthmoving phenomenon you experience when you hold your child for the first time."

"And then there's the downside," she continued. "The pain betrayal and loss cause is deeper and more exacting than anything else."

"So," said Ned, "you're saying that I shouldn't care so I don't feel bad again?"

"No." she answered. "I am saying you must care. The feeling of flying high is what makes life worth living. The pain you feel is the cost of your heart getting stronger from the trials it is overcoming. As you climb up and down the highs and lows of life your heart will grow stronger every day. I have seen whole nations changed by people with strong hearts."

"Your homework," she said pulling a book out of her jump suit, ", is to continue being sad, but more productively." she handed him the book. He opened the book to find all the pages were blank. "You are to take what you feel and turn them into words. Once your feelings are in a more articulate form your brain can give your heart a hand in getting out of your funk."

She got up and walked toward the school. "See you tomorrow!" she called back.

Ned stared at the blank book and the more urgent blank enrollment form. Then, he put pen to paper and got to work.

* * *

><p>The next day at school, Ned was back at the same picnic table, writing. Since yesterday, he had filled up a quarter of the blank book. He'd written about there last day together, what he missed the most, his favorite memory, or whatever had crossed his mind at the time. The mallet-wielding red head had been right. Putting your emotions on paper did make them easier to deal with.<p>

"You're writing tips again?" Moze asked as she sat down next to him.

"No, I'm using someone else's tip." he said. "'Write out your emotions so your brain can take up the slack for your heart.'"

"Whatever you're doing, it's good to see you out of Zombie mode." she said. They were both quite for a while. Ned stopped writing.

"Thanks," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"I wouldn't have even bothered moving yesterday if it wasn't for you." he replied.

"No problem," she said hugging him with one hand around his shoulder. "You have to do the same if Faymen gets extradited to Brazil, you understand."

"Deal" he told her.

Cookie came up carrying his schedule.

"I got both the Electives I wanted: Heuristics and Art." Cookie said happily. "I was afraid of her at first, but she told me about the time she was lost in the London Underground and had to build an echolocation radar out of four cockroaches and a paper clip."

"I got the ones I wanted, too," said Moze. "Heuristics and Wood Shop. The way she handled that sledgehammer was poetry in motion."

"I'm in Heuristics and Home Economics." said Ned. "Good tips are worth their weight in gold."

"How much does a tip weigh?" asked Moze.

"More than a hint but less than a sign." Ned answered.

"What do you guys have first period?" asked Cookie.

"Heuristics." said Ned an Moze together.

"Same here." said Cookie.

A few minutes later they were all in Room #102. The wall that had been destroyed yesterday had been replaced by a single giant panel of black glass.

"Good morning class," said a voice from the back of the room. In walked an explosion of red hair. The body it was attached to was wearing an electric green dress patterned with juggling platypus.

"Welcome to Heuristics." she said as she walked to the front of the classroom. "For the semester to come we will be learning the cheat codes for life on earth. You are required everyday to bring a notebook, a right handed pencil, £70 in change, and a selection of cough drops. I also give extra credit if you can bring in a Snark, no points if it's a Boojum." When she reached the black glass wall she touched her hand to it and pictures sprang up where her hand was and moved across the surface. She reached out and touched one of the icons that had come up and a class list was displayed. It dawned on Ned that she had turned the wall into a giant touchscreen.

"My name," she said, turning suddenly to face the class, "is Ms. Valerie Frizzle. Thank you," she gestured to all the students, "for taking my class. Now, I'm going to tell you how you can find the parking space closest to the door without having to drive around the lot."


	2. Style

**Chapter 2: Style**

"_The clothes may make a man, but all a girl needs is a tan."_

* * *

><p>It was six o'clock, and the girls volleyball team was practicing for the upcoming game against St. Mathilda's Inquisitors.<p>

More specifically, it was six in the morning and Moze had forced the girls to come in and practice for a game that night.

"Come _on_!" she screamed at the current server. "You put that like you had your eyes closed!" The girl in question was currently sleeping standing up. This technique is mastered by the monks of the Western Bedouins after years of training, but if Moze was your team captain, you had to be able to do it within the first week of school.

"We're tired!" Samantha groaned from the other side of the net. "Why do we have to do this before the Sun comes up?"

"First, the sun's been up for a whole twenty minutes." answered Moze. "Second, the Inquisitors were at practicing all through winter break, so we need to cram in more practice if we want a chance." The girls were persuaded to continue practicing for another two hours by the logic that absolute authority brings. At ten 'till eight, Moze told them to hit the showers.

"Good work, team." she said as they washed away the residue of practice. "If we all fit in a nap after school, or maybe during study hall, we'll be in tip-top condition." She got into her street clothes and made her way to Room #102 for first hour Heuristics.

Heuristics was a fun class. She suspected that Ms. Frizzle knew everything. So far, they had learned how to get blood out of upholstery, how to calculate sales tax in your head, and how to roast a turkey in a microwave in under three minutes. Ned was loving the new tips he was getting. Ned was also getting very involved in his other elective, Home Ec. He had invited her over tonight after the game to sample a new recipe he'd learned. She wondered if he was at school yet, and reached for her phone to call him.

To her dismay, it wasn't in her usual pocket. She searched her bag...no luck. She hoped with all her heart that it had dropped out in her gym locker. She ran back to the gym, but stopped short at the doors when she heard her teammates talking angrily.

"I don't see how she even made captain." she heard from Samantha. "She take a whole half an hour to haul those thunder thighs across the court."

"Yeah," she heard from Gloria. "The last time she fell down they had to refinish the gym floor."

There was more, but Moze had already walked away.

* * *

><p>Ned was still trying to reach Moze on her phone as he walked into Room #102. He had called her three times since he got into the building. Everyone was in their seats and he found her in her usual seat at the front of the classroom.<p>

"Hey, why didn't you pick up?" he asked, sitting next to her. She didn't answer. "Moze?" She didn't even turn to him. "What's wrong?"

"Good morning class!" a voice came from the front of the class.

"Good morning Ms. Frizzle." the class responded.

"Today, we're going to talk about Style." she said. "Style is the unique way you express yourself. It has two major components: How you look and how you act."

"Clothes are the easy part." she said. "Your body is hard to change. Black is always in style and Jeans go with everything. More importantly, this dress is fabulous." She indicated the Ball gown she was wearing. It appeared to be made of equal parts silk and diamonds.

She told them about sales tricks they could use. If you bought an item before it went on sale the store was legally obligated to refund you whatever extra money you paid more than what they were now charging for the item. She advocated the use of iron on patches and decals to add any extra flare to your wardrobe. Clothes that you can buy cheaply are usually just as good as the name brand rigmarole, and they're machine washable.

"The second component of style are your actions." she said. "You must walk with your head held high. Even on your worst day you have to strut like you have oil wells pumping in your backyard."

They spent a few minutes walking around the classroom with textbooks balanced on their heads, trying to look dignified. She covered the importance of elocution. Speaking clearly is an important aspect of hire-ability.

"Repeat after me:," she said. "I'm a thistle-sifter. I have a sieve of sifted thistles and a sieve of unsifted thistles, because I'm a thistle sifter." They spent the rest of class trying to get this right. She also offered: "I'm not the pheasant-plucker, I'm the pheasant-plucker's mate, and I'm only plucking pheasants 'cause the pheasant-plucker's late."

She concluded class, telling them: "Always remember what the immortal bard said: You're amazing just the way you are."

* * *

><p>"Ms. Frizzle was onto something with the iron on decals." said Cookie. It was their lunch break and they were all seated in their usual table. Moze was glaring at her beans rather than eating them. "I can use specialized paper to print out the artwork I've been making and come out with my own fashion line."<p>

"Somehow," said Ned as he looked at one of Cookie's printouts, "I don't think the aesthetic of a backhoe fighting a bunny rabbit is going to catch on."

"You have no imagination." Cookie rebuffed.

Moze, meanwhile, was still glaring at her entrée. Samantha was totally out of line! She was not fat. Was she? Of course not. She wasn't any bigger than, well there were a lot of people bigger than her. Then again, a lot of people were smaller than her, too. Maybe loosing a few inches wouldn't kill her. She only needed to eat half the lunch. She could probably get by on a quarter. If she missed it, dinner wasn't that far away.

"Moze!" Ned said, finally snapping out of her prognostication. She faced him startled.

"What?" she asked.

"What is the matter with you today?"

"Um..." she thought for a second and came up with nothing. "Oh, there's the bell!" she said and she ran off.

Cookie looked around the room, no one had moved. "The bell didn't ring." he said, confused.

* * *

><p>Eight period gym rolled around and Ned took a seat on the gym floor after getting dressed in his gym sweats. He was still wondering what had Moze so preoccupied. He knew she could take care of herself, but still...<p>

"Alright class!" yelled Coach Dirga from the outside doors of the gym. "Follow me!" she turned and went outside. The class got up a followed her out the door. She led them down to the La Cross field. They were all unified in the horror they felt as they gazed at her latest scheme.

She had set up a series of obstacles all around the field.

"This is an obstacle course." Coach Dirga yelled, cementing their fears. "You are to go clockwise around the field. You are going to start on the balance beam and walk across without falling off. Then, you go to the Rope Net and crawl under it until you reach the other side. From there, you climb across the monkey bars. After that, you climb over the climbing wall and down the other side. Run through the tires that are set up without falling over. Last, you swing across on the ropes provided. Then you do it again. After you go around the course four times, you're done for the day."

Ned started out on the balance beam thinking this class would be over fast. By the time he finished the monkey bars for the second time, he was surprised he wasn't coughing up blood. He should have paid more attention to the ambulance that was parked by the field when class started.

Moze blew past him and latched on the climbing wall. As she began her ascent she relished this chance to burn off a few unwanted calories. The fact that she didn't have any extra calories left was a detail she disregarded entirely.

"Moze!" cried Ned. He had put on a burst of speed and was climbing right along side her. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm running the course!" she shouted back.

"You've passed me five times!" Ned shouted. "You should be chilling on the bleachers!"

"Nonsense!" she yelled as she crest the top of the wall.

"You're red as a bell pepper!" he cried, now very worried that she had lost it.

Moze swung her leg over the wall and turned to Ned to yell at him again, but when she did no air came out. She couldn't feel the anything. The lights were going dark around her. The last thing she could clearly register was Ned looking horrified.

* * *

><p>Moze tasted something sweet. There was a welcomed moisture in her dry mouth. She vaguely heard some one chanting "You are very thirsty." She opened her eyes and was greeted by an explosion of red.<p>

"Welcome back." said Ms. Frizzle who was holding a juice box to her lips. "Keep drinking." As Moze sipped obediently she looked around the room. She was in the nurses office. Nurse Hunsucker was taking her pulse with one hand and holding an ice pack against the back her neck. Ms. Frizzle was sitting directly in front of her with a stare that strongly conveyed the importance of this juice box being consumed.

"You fell off the climbing wall in gym." Ms. Frizzle said. "Ned pulled off some acrobatics and caught you before you hit the ground."

Moze's eyes widened in shock. She would normally bet against Ned being able to catch a falling party balloon. She finished the juice box.

"Now this one," said Ms. Frizzle as she pulled out another juice box. "Ned also told me," Ms. Frizzle continued, "that you had been around a four trip obstacle course 5 times. On an empty stomach." She gave Moze a look clearly conveying that this was a very stupid thing to do. She finished the second juice box.

"Now, eat." Ms. Frizzle said as she handed move a granola bar. "I don't think Coach Dirga would have put you to death if you went around the obstacle course at a leisurely pace. Or at the very least a non-fatal pace. What were you thinking?"

"Just getting some exercise." Moze said unconvincingly. "Feeling the burn." Ms. Frizzles eyes were threatening to burn right into her brain if the truth didn't first exit via her mouth. "Burning some calories."

"Oh, for heaven's sakes." said Ms. Frizzle. "Is this about what Samantha was saying this morning?"

"How did you know about that?" Moze asked startled.

"I hear things." she said dismissively. "Ned! Get in here!" she called over her shoulder. Ned burst through the door of the nurses office looking frantic. Moze thought he must have been waiting out there. He looked frantic until he saw Moze sitting upright, at which point his entire body unclenched.

"Moze..." he started, relieved.

"Ned," Ms. Frizzle interrupted, "is Moze pretty?" Moze looked at Ms. Frizzle in shock. Nurse Hunsucker lost count of the pulse beats.

"Yeah. She's a beautiful girl." he answered as clinically as if he was answering a science question.

"Prettier than..." Ms. Frizzle waved her hand around while she searched for a name. "Missy Meanie?" she decided.

"Of course." Ned answered immediately.

"Prettier than Suzie Crabgrass?" she asked.

"Uh..." he hesitated.

"About the same?" she offered.

"Yeah." he said, feeling he'd just dodged a bullet.

"Thank you," said Ms. Frizzle. "You may go." and she shut the door on him. "You see," she said turning back to Moze, "you are physically attractive."

"Ned doesn't count." said Moze, getting over the shock. "He's my best friend."

"Exactly." said Ms. Frizzle. "He likes you so you look prettier to him. On the other end of the spectrum, you're going to look downright ugly to Samantha who hates you for getting her up at the crack of dawn."

"Ah," said Moze. Of course, it was all empty insults. She had let herself get all worked up over something someone had said in a fit of anger.

"She's looking good." said Nurse Hunsucker as she jotted down something on her clipboard. "Nothing else seems wrong, she can go home and play in the Volleyball game tonight."

Moze got up to leave and Ms. Frizzle opened the door for her.

"Good luck tonight, Jennifer." Ms. Frizzle said. "Kindly remember, being healthy is more important than looking pretty."

* * *

><p>That night, Ned and Moze met up in Ned's kitchen. He was preparing a caramel apple pie he'd learn to make in Home Ec. While Moze was recapitulating what happened at the game.<p>

"...then I spiked the ball right in her face!" she said from her chair at the table as Ned brought the pie over.

"Nice." Ned said cutting her a good sized slice.

"We won by a landslide." she said happily. "The Inquisitors will never rise from the ashes of their humiliation. Cut the piece a little bigger."

"Sure," said Ned, adding another wedge. "So, the team isn't still unhappy about the early morning practice?"

"They told me I was the best captain ever and they carried me out on their shoulders." she said. "They offered to take me shopping this weekend."

"You can hide at my house." Ned offered.

"Thanks." said Moze. "I'll tell them I'm at Disney Land. I can't believe I nearly killed myself over someone else thinking I was ugly. This pie is amazing." She continued digging in.

"You're amazing, Moze." said Ned, like it was as obvious as apples will fall when dropped. "Just the way you are."


	3. Worth

**Chapter 3: Worth**

"_Baby, you're a Firework!"_

* * *

><p>For the fifth time since the date started, Moze thought to herself how dreamy he was. Faymen Phorchin was the Brazilian exchange student, and if there were empirical criteria for being dreamy, Faymen would have them. He was the tall, dark, and handsome archetype with a bonus accent.<p>

Tonight he had followed the dream date script. Doors were held open. Chairs were pulled out. He looked at her eyes when she was talking. Now, he was walking her to her front door.

They had never kissed before. Something always got in the way: he had a cold, her dad was there. Her father had a deep suspicion of all the boys who weren't Ned or Cookie. Here, at her front door, they looked deep into each others' faces, and she new this was it.

"I had a great time tonight, Jennifer." he said, leaning in gently. Moze, who was a strong believe in being direct, jumped the rest of the distance and kissed him. When they separated, Faymen smiled hugely.

"Good night, Jennifer." he said and walked away.

Moze went inside, made her way to her room, and fell back onto her bed. She gently fingered her lower lip, pondering what just happened.

"Huh." she said. That had been utterly...dull.

* * *

><p>"Have you ever considered the wealth of insects?" Ms. Frizzle asked her first hour class. They were all thinking about insects right now. If for no other reason that her touch screen wall was covered in video feeds of various creepy-crawlies. For reasons they could not quire fathom, she also had a Hercules Beetle crawling across her shoulder.<p>

"If we," Ms. Frizzle continued, "the human race, and all the other vertebrates disappeared overnight, planet earth would carry on. If all the insects were gone, life on earth would start circling the drain. Insects convert dead plant matter, and dead animal matter, into base nutrients that can nourish new life. All the fertile farmland you grow your food on, you have earthworms and flies to thank for that. If you have a favorite fruit, it was a flower that was impregnated by a bug at some point. Of course, you all know that storms are caused by butterflies."

"All these things," Ms. Frizzle said, "we owe to creatures we often disregard. We are also guilty of disregarding our own people. We consider others unworthy who do menial or common jobs. Some sad people even discount themselves. Undoubtedly, some of your parents have warned you that if you don't apply yourself now you will be a garbage man when you grow up. Well, that very well may be so, but what kind of a world would it be if we didn't have any garbage men? If tomorrow there was no sanitation service then within the week you'd be wading knee deep in old banana peels to get to school. Before the month was out we'd all have cancer!"

"Every task is important. Anything worth doing is worth doing well. Do your duty as if the President himself gave you the assignment. If it falls to you to sweep the halls of a school building, then you are to sweep like Michelangelo sculpted, like Shakespeare wrote poetry, or like Eminem busts a rhyme. Sweep it so well that if the Supreme Being were passing by he would say to himself 'That is the best swept hall I have ever seen.'"

* * *

><p>"This is the worst swept hallway I have ever seen." said Ned as he passed Gordy.<p>

"I save my 'A game' for when when Crubbs is inspecting." said Gordy.

"I think I might be staring at my future." said Ned to Moze. "And it looks like an advert for the Salvation Army."

"Why are you depressed again?" asked Moze.

"Ms. Frizzle says that everyone should contribute as best they can, but I don't know what I'm even good at." said Ned.

"The Macadamia Nut cookies you made yesterday put a strong punt in for confectionery." said Moze.

"Yeah, but can you make a career out of it?" asked Ned, sinking slowly into freak-out mode. "Will I get benefits? Do I need a degree or a license? Will I be able to support my mother in her old age and start up a 401K?"

"Uh, I don't know the answers," said Moze, "but, you seem to be asking the right questions. I don't even know what I should be asking about Faymen."

"What's wrong with Faymen?" asked Ned. "Did he do something to you?"

"No!" Moze answered quickly. "Well, yes. He kissed me, but it was like kissing a wall."

"A wall that didn't know how to kiss?" Ned asked coyly.

"Don't make me stuff you in your locker." Moze threatened.

"You should talk to Dr. Xavier." suggested Ned. "If anyone can reduce love to a basic mathematical formula and balance the equation, it's her. And Cookie says she's always reading romance novels."

"Thanks," said Moze, brightening up. "If you make a list of things you want to know about a job you can look them up in the career section of the library."

"Thanks," said Ned. "Go for Plan Library!"

"Time for Plan Xavier!" said Moze, and they were off.

* * *

><p>"So, there are no fireworks when you kiss?" Dr. Xavier repeated back to Moze, trying to be sure she understood the problem.<p>

"Yeah," confirmed Moze. "I don't know what's missing. He's cute, he's nice, he's got an accent...really great teeth."

"No worry," said Xavier, making her way to the blackboard. "Class!" she called out to her students. They looked up from their logarithms. "We are going to analyze the dynamic of kiss on mathematical level! Here are the variables..." She began copying down the variables on the black board. These variables were facts about Moze and Faymen: Age, Shoe Size, Favorite Color, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Later that day, she would wonder how Xavier knew what shampoo she used.

As soon as all the variables were written out, the more eager students swarmed to the blackboard armed with chalk and formulas. They began writing out equations and calling out esoteric phrases that were known only to the mathematical elite. Moze was vaguely reminded of wizards making up a spell to summon a demon.

"Let x equal the weight ratio...The sum of all numbers between variable hotness...extrapolate using the MacLagan Retroactive Forecast formula...round to the nearest iterant of Dalke's Progression of Random Constants..." There was a small explosion at the front of the group and a few students were blown backwards.

"Alright, which one of you divided by Zero?"

A few more explosion and an animal sacrifice later, and the solution had been simplified. Dr. Xavier was making the final calculations.

"And final answer is:" Dr. Xavier swept back from the board with a flourish, "42!"

"Great," said Moze, unimpressed. "What was the question?"

"That night on your porch." Dr. Xavier clarified "Kiss firework were at level of 42 out of possible 100. When we calculate father giving good-night kiss, Firework level at 43."

"Amazing." said Moze. "I've just been scoring them as 'good' or 'bad'."

"Fortunately, we can alter variables to get better score." Dr. Xavier said as she circled a group of numbers in the longhand equation. "These variables are for environment. Your front porch had no atmosphere."

"So," said Moze, "all we need to do is set the scene for the perfect kiss. Crank it up to 11!"

"Everyone!" cried Dr. Xavier. "To Gymnasium!"

* * *

><p>Ned was sitting between shelves in the library perusing every book he could find on careers. <span>Oyster Farming: Is It For You?<span> wasn't much of a page turner. Futures In Horoscope Reading didn't offer much in the way of job security. How To Be A Millionaire By 20 had seemed promising, but, when he opened it, all the pages were blank and there was a note in the front: _Please fill this out after you make a million dollars_.

In spite of the setbacks, Ned was resolved. He was going to figure out _exactly_ how the rest of his life was going to play out. And he was going to decide _today._

* * *

><p>Faymen made his way towards the Gym. As Mr. Sweeney's science class was ending he had gotten a message to go to the Gym post haste for an emergency soccer game. It seemed odd, but it wasn't for him to pass judgement on another culture, and soccer was soccer.<p>

He opened the gym's door and sand came pouring out into the hall. The floor of the gym was covered in white sands. Hesitantly he made his way inside. As he walked across the sand he noticed something very peculiar about the gym. He was very sure that it had a ceiling a when he was in here this morning. Right now, he saw the Sun in a clear blue sky. The gym had previously been enclosed by four walls, but now he could swear he was on a beach, complete with gently swaying palm trees, crashing waves, and a flock of seagulls.

There on the shore, stood Jennifer. She was wearing a long white gown that was flowing gently through the breeze. Her hair was falling in waves. Faymen was utterly stupefied by her beauty.

"Jennifer," he breathed, "you're beautiful." He walker right up and kissed her with more passion than he knew he had in him.

He blacked right out. He fell back onto the sand, a smile frozen on his face.

Moze kept her eyes closed, basking in the moment, trying to soak up every stimulus. And finally:

"Nothing!" she said frustrated and stormed out of the gym.

All around her, the beach disappeared and was replaced by green screen. The green screens came down and the people standing behind them were revealed.

"Okay, everyone!" shouted Dr. Xavier from her hiding place behind the base fan. "That is wrap! Tear it down!"

While they were using push-brooms to clear away the shore, Moze was storming down the hallway to her locker. They brought a beach to the school and their was nothing to show for it. That kiss had been a 44, at most.

"That's a nice dress, Jennifer." said Ms. Frizzle who was walking the other way down the hall carrying a leaf blower. "Dr. Xavier said she needed help at the gym clearing away a beach. Do you know what she was talking about?"

"She was trying to help me feel the fireworks." said Moze gloomily.

"As your teacher, I should point out that _feeling _fireworks has a serious risk of injury." said Ms. Frizzle cautiously.

"No," Moze said, "I mean with Faymen."

"The Buddy System doesn't really help in this case." said Ms. Frizzle.

Moze finally lost patience. "When we kiss I don't feel any fireworks!" she groaned impatiently.

"Oh, those." said Ms. Frizzle following her to her locker. Moze banged her head against her locker and gave a sniff. "Do you have any tips?" she asked hopefully.

"Every kiss feels different." said Ms. Frizzle blushing slightly. "The same way each person is different. Some people mix like oil and water. Of course, how you feel about that person affects how much static you feel. Honestly, Jennifer, at your age it's unlikely you like anyone enough to feel the..." she stopped suddenly as a thought crossed her mind.

"Hang on," Ms. Frizzle said, "you didn't feel fireworks with Faymen?"

"No." Moze reiterated.

"How do you know what fireworks feel like?"

"Uh," Moze was stumped.

"Did you feel fireworks when you kissed someone else?" Ms. Frizzle asked.

"Yeah," Moze said brightening up. If she could just remember then she'd know what was missing. She just had to think. "It was with..."

The memory played bright and clear in her mind. Ned sitting next to her at the back of the bus. Laughter on his face. His expression changing to uncertainty. Then his lips against hers.

"Oh," she said. The realization had actually raised more questions than answers. "Gotta go!" she said to Ms. Frizzle. She hitched up her skirt and ran for the girl's bathroom.

Ms. Frizzle raised her eyebrows, gave a shrug, and continued to the Gym. As she was passing the library a book on platypus breeding flew past her head. She looked inside to see Ned lying supine in the career section. She walked over and gave him a nudge with her toe.

"This library doesn't have any answers." he groaned from his place on the floor.

"They cut those first when the budget was revised." Ms. Frizzle joked. "What's your question?"

"I want to know what I'm going to do." said Ned, sitting up.

"You're going to worry yourself into conniption fit." said Ms. Frizzle

"I have to decide what I'm going to do with my life." said Ned.

"In one afternoon? That takes at least a weekend." said Ms. Frizzle. "Look, you have time. You can spend whole years getting the information to make this decision. Dabble in things. Take up hobbies. Take chances. Get Messy. Make Mistakes. Get out there and explore. The job you end up choosing might not even exist yet. A few short years ago there were no such things as cell phones. Now there are oodles of cell phone companies that are in a bidding war for the best programmers and electronics designers. If your guide is anything to go by, I think you have the makings of a teacher gestating within you."

"I'm afraid I'll turn into some nobody." Ned admitted.

"Like I said earlier: every job is important." said Ms. Frizzle. She knelt down beside him and whispered conspiratorially. "I can guarantee there's someone out there who thinks you're a firework."

* * *

><p>"Crab Parmesan." Ned said with a flourish. He put two bowls of the dip on the table. Moze tore off a piece of bred and dug in. They were both in Ned's Kitchen again to sample his latest recipe.<p>

"I'm still not sure what I want to do." Ned admitted between mouthfuls. "Whatever it is, I'm going to need all the knowledge I can get my hands on. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to pull all the stops at school."

"So, you'll get straight A's this semester?" asked Moze doubtfully.

"I can give you my written guarantee." said Ned confidently.

"I'll hold you to it." said Moze. "And I can help you every step of the way."

"Thanks, Moze." said Ned. "Hey, how did things go with Faymen?"

Moze gave Ned a very calculating look. Ned was starting to wonder if he had something on his face. Finally, she answered.

"I think we're just going to have to keep practicing." she said and returned to her dip.


	4. Cooperation

**Chapter 4: Cooperation**

"_Never have so few done so much for so many."_

* * *

><p>"This is Oxygen." Ms. Frizzle said indicating the atom that was animated on her touch screen wall. "He enjoys historical fiction and mountain biking. These are hydrogen." she indicated two smaller atoms orbiting each other on the other side of the screen. "They like barn dancing and poems by Lewis Carroll. Now watch this." She flicked the Oxygen over at the Hydrogens. There was a crash, a flash of light, and there was a molecule in its place.<p>

"This is Water." said Ms. Frizzle. "It's the substance that makes life on Earth possible. If can form entire ecosystems. If the other two elements did their best they wouldn't come close to that. When they bonded together they had properties they could never have alone."

More compounds came out onto the screen. They were many shapes and colors. As new ones appeared, Ms. Frizzle called out their names.

"Sugar, Salt Pewter, Phosphorous, Adenosine Triphosphate, Phospholipids, Calcium, and oodles of other elements and compounds. These substances make up a cell."

The atoms grew swiftly smaller like the camera was zooming out. Eventually, the picture solidified into a cross section of a cell.

"All the different parts work together to do something that none of them could do alone. Create Life." The picture zoomed out again revealing...a kitten.

"And this is an organism." said Ms. Frizzle "It is capable of looking cute. Hydrogen was never going to pull that off. And if a few of these kittens all work together they could kill a full grown bull elephant."

From the front row of the class, Moze raised one eyebrow in a condemning expression.

"They would," amended Ms. Frizzle "require a great deal of the element of surprise. The point is when different entities work in tandem they accomplish things they could never do alone. This is true at the chemical level, this is true at the cellular level, and it's true about people. Your assignment is to work with two other people to make something. Anything. Amaze me. Don't worry if all you have are bad ideas. All good ideas started off bad, they were perfected by determined people. Now go!"

At the word 'go' the class scrambled to find their friends. There was only one thing more terrifying than a group project: a group projects with people you hate. Ned made a dive for Moze while Cookie latched on to his ankle.

"Jennifer Mosely, Ned Bigby, and Simon Nelson-Cook..." said Ms. Frizzle as she jotted their names down on the touch screen wall. "...are Group I."

She continued to read off the rest of the groups as they formed. Ned, Moze, and Cookie were in conference about their project.

"We need to analyze all our unique properties," said Cookie, "and come up with a project that will rock Ms. Frizzle's world."

"Well, I can cook well." said Ned.

"I'm good at wood-crafting." said Moze.

"And I'm good with electronics." said Cookie. They all shared a knowing look.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Moze asked them.

"Oh, yes." said Ned.

"Pie Vending Machine!" They all said together.

* * *

><p>Seven hours, eighteen splinters, four electrical burns, and eight pounds of butter later, it was done!<p>

They all stood back and gazed lovingly at their creation. In it's own corner in the wood-shop room stood the world's first pie vending machine.

Moze had crafted a large cabinet with an array of small doors at the front, each about the size of a shoe box. She had gone all out on the molding and carvings. The cabinet looked like it would be very at home in a palace. If the Queen of England ever saw Moze's work, her royal highness would be ordering an invasion of the colonies that week.

Ned had been baking for the worth of his life. He had made up fourteen different cobblers, seven pies, and 12 crumble cakes. They were custom sized to fit the special shelves. Each one of them had a flavor that could loosely be defined as the physical form of joy.

Cookie had rigged up a control panel and a series of electrically operated hinges for every door. The panel could accept voice commands and a soothing voice, programed to sound like Oprah Winfrey, would thank you for your patronage after it took your order. The internal environment was maintained to prevent anything inside growing fur or making colonies.

It was a mastery of all three disciplines.

They put a sheet over it and moved slowly to the door. If any mischievous entities noticed things were going right, they would exact a harsh punishment.

"This story is wrapping up nicely." said Moze as they made their way to Mr. Sweeney's class. As they reached the bottom of the stairs they heard a ruckus from the next story. There were people crashing around and they heard people chanting 'fight, fight, fight'. Then they heard a collective gasp. With a few crashes and a '_thunk_', Loomer tumbled down the stair and landed at Ned's feet.

"Whoa," said Moze appreciatively. "Hey, Loomer. Who kicked your butt?" Loomer didn't answer. He didn't move at all. Ned bent down to examine him more closely.

"Don't touch him!" Ned jumped back. Vice Principal Crubbs was dashing down the hall, and he wasn't even worried he'd dropped both pairs of sunglasses.

Everyone backed away from Loomer while Crubbs made sure he was breathing normally. Down the hall, Ms. Frizzle running towards the stairs with Nurse Hunsucker being pulled along behind her. Nurse Hunsucker immediately knelt down next to Loomer and stared checking vital signs.

"Alright, everyone!" shouted Ms. Frizzle. "You all have studying to do! Move along!" She waved her arms and the students moved along to their next class.

* * *

><p>Moze was leaning against the wall opposite Ms. Frizzle's classroom door. After Loomer had been taken away in the ambulance, the rumor mill was going at full speed. Some people were saying his neck was broken and he had died. Some people were saying he was in a full body cast. Some people said this was a cover to have his brain replaced by a computer matrix and he'd come back a model student.<p>

The only things Moze had managed to piece together were the events leading up to him falling down the stairs. Loomer had been trying to pull Coconut Head's underwear up over the top of his head. What Loomer didn't know, indeed no one saw this coming, was that Coconut Head had hit puberty and had been growing muscles. Coconut Head had given him one good shove. Loomer had been caught completely off guard by the strength behind the move and had lost his balance. Unfortunately, all this happened at the top of the stairs, and Loomer had come tumbling down.

What Moze didn't know was if Loomer was going to be alright. He may be a bully, but he didn't deserve to be maimed. She was hoping Ms. Frizzle would be abreast of the situation and let her in on what was going on. However, right now she couldn't work up the courage to knock on the door.

"Come in, Jennifer." called Ms. Frizzle from inside the classroom. Jennifer looked around the hall, wondering how Ms. Frizzle could possibly have seen her. She slowly opened the door and peaked inside. Ms. Frizzle was sitting at her desk, reading a copy of Newsweek.

"How'd you know..." Moze started.

"I heard you fretting loudly." answered Ms. Frizzle. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Loomer alive?" asked Moze after some hesitation.

Ms. Frizzle set down her magazine and folded her hands on her desk.

"Alive, yes." she answered. "The fall caused muscle swelling. However, there were no breaks or serious injuries."

"So, he's just a little swollen?" Moze asked, relieved.

"It's actually worse than it sounds." said Ms. Frizzle. "The swelling is pinching off nerves in his body making it difficult for the brain to send instructions to the muscles. Until the swelling goes down he's going to find it very hard to...well, do anything."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the wood shop room, the faint glow of sparks went off under the sheet covering the Pie Vending Machine. Oprah Winfrey's crazed cackle was heard. The faint sparks became a flickering, orange fire.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>This <em>is Loomer's house?" asked Ned as he, Moze, and Cookie stood outside a three story house on a hill overlooking a lake.

"Yep." said Moze.

"This is _Loomer's _house?" asked Ned as he surveyed the fountain and coy pond in the front yard.

"Yes." said Moze, getting impatient. "Ms. Frizzle said the hospital sent him home since he wasn't in critical condition." She approached the huge double doors and rang the door bell. From inside they heard bells chiming the tune of Il Travatore.

"This is Loomer's _house_?" asked Ned looking at the four car garage. "If he has all this stuff, then why is he so mean all the time?"

"Makes sense to me." said Cookie. "It's a family trait. You don't get disgustingly wealthy by being nice to people."

Moze was about to lecture them on the rewards of honesty and compassion when they heard a crash inside and muted swearing. Moze tried the doorknob, which was mercifully unlocked. They all ran in to see what had happened. The idea that Loomer could have fallen down the stairs twice in one day meant the universe was meaner than they could bear thinking about. Moze led them down a the West Hallway. In a house this big you couldn't use words like 'right', 'left', or 'forward'. You had to use cardinal directions to navigate.

After passing a few empty rooms they found themselves in the kitchen. As Ned looked around he wondered if this was actually Heaven. There was a huge glass topped stove dominating an entire wall. There was every sort of cooking implement and utensil hanging from hooks in the ceiling. There was a pot resting on a shelf in a corner that could have poached a hippopotamus.

"Loomer!" Moze cried out. She saw a foot poking out from the pantry. When they ran over they saw a pile of foodstuffs and broken shelving on the pantry floor. Some one was desperately trying to free themselves from under the pile with flailing movements. It was Loomer.

"What are you doing here?" Loomer asked when he saw them.

"We came to see if you were alright." said Moze, as she grabbed one of his arms.

"Peachy Keene." Loomer grumbled as Moze and Ned hauled him to his feet. macaroni noodles and a cloud of paprika fell off of him as he stood up. He stayed standing for a second, then started to fall forward.

"Whoa!" Ned and Moze said together as they caught him.

"Where can we set him down at?" Moze asked.

"I think I saw a sofa in a chamber a few clicks to the east." Ned offered. They grabbed Loomer under each arm and carried him down the hall.

"It's this one." said Loomer as they came up to a door. The chamber had no windows and several plush, black velvet sofas facing a TV screen that could give Ms. Frizzle's wall an inferiority complex. Ned and Moze backed up to the nearest Sofa and they all three sat down.

"Why are you here alone?" Moze asked as she caught her breath.

"My Parents have been in Europe for the past two weeks." said Loomer. "He's in Berlin. She's in Monte Carlo."

"When are they getting back?" asked Cookie. An expression they couldn't quite catch ran across Loomer's face before he went back to looking vacant.

"They get back in another month." Loomer answered. "I called them while I was in the hospital. They aren't going to cut their trip short, but they're going to pay a nurse to come check up on me." They were all silent for a little while. Ned was starting to feel a sort of tenderness he didn't think he'd ever connect with someone so hard-headed.

"What happened in the kitchen?" Cookie asked finally.

"Well," said Loomer, "I was feeling hungry so I went to look for the peanut butter, but I lost my balance and grabbed a shelf on my way down. That's when you guys...Hey, where'd Ned go?"

Moze looked up to where Ned was sitting a minute ago. He had softly and suddenly vanished away. Down the hall, they heard pots moving around and cabinets opening. To Moze, who knew Ned's cooking well, it was like listening to an orchestra warm up before the opera started.

"I think he's about to get cooking." Moze told them. Loomer raised his eyebrows. Random people showing up and cooking something was extremely unusual, then again: food! "I'll go see if I can help." Moze said as she left for the kitchen. After she was gone, Loomer noticed there was something drizzling down his arm. When he looked he thought he had cut an artery, but it turned out it was marinara sauce that had spilled on him. He looked over the rest of his body to find he was covered in everything from curry powder to corn oil.

"Um...Cookie?" Loomer asked nervously.

"Yeah?" asked Cookie.

"Can you...help me get cleaned up?"

* * *

><p>Moze watched Ned race around the kitchen. He was flitting between different pots like a humming bird with a very serious nectar addiction.<p>

"What's for dinner?" asked Moze.

"Spaghetti Bolognese. Garlic Bread. Canapés." Ned rattled off.

"Need any help?" she asked.

"Can you boil water?" he asked.

"Not really." she admitted.

"Toast bread?" he asked.

"Nope." she said.

"Fix shelving?" he asked.

"That I can do." she said and she went to see what could be done about the pantry.

* * *

><p>Cookie guided Loomer back into the room with the huge TV. Loomer was more or less steady on his feet and only needed to be stabilized now and again. His hair was still damp from his shower and he'd changed into a short sleeve and athletic shorts. Cookie was slightly damp on one side from catching him before he brained himself on the bathroom floor. The both collapsed on the couch. The trip between the den and the bathroom was a long one at the best of times.<p>

Cookie reached for the remote and clicked it at the TV. The screen turned blue. He pushed a few more buttons that looked promising. A few of the machines under the TV whirred to life and one of them ejected a disc tray.

"It doesn't work." said Loomer. "Any of it. My dad decided to build an entertainment system and he let the guy at the store talk him into buying the most expensive crap they had. He didn't know how to set any of it up, so now he just doesn't come in here."

Cookie picked up all the remotes on the coffee table and walked up to the entertainment system. He stared it down for a few minutes.

"So, we meet again Mr. Bose." Cookie said. "Prepare to die!"

* * *

><p>Moze walked back to the TV room. After some trekking, she had found the garage. It was fully stocked with enough tools to keep a NASCAR pit crew happy, but they didn't look like they'd ever been used. She took what she needed and secured the shelves in the pantry back into place. Charging rhinos couldn't bring those things down now. Putting the groceries back up had been a bit more of a challenge. Some of the food was no longer edible, and the ones that were needed to be ordered by food group cross referenced with expiration date. Top it all, Ned seemed to instinctively know when she was holding a spice he needed and would run into grab it from her.<p>

She was done now and going to check on Cookie and Loomer. She half suspected that Loomer's hunger had compelled him to eat Cookie by now. She came through the door to find Cookie in front of the TV knee deep in wires.

"What's he doing?" she asked, sitting down next to Loomer.

"Showing the Bose who's boss." said Loomer.

Cookie started shoving wires back into the shelving unit, put all the panels back in place, gave the audio switch a good kick, seriously considered sacrificing a goat, decided against it (where would you find a goat this hour? (You could find six down the South Hall, third door on the left.)), and plugged in the master power supply.

He went back to the couch and clicked the remote. The machines all roared to life. 40 square feet of TV screen glowed in bright colors. Cookie looked on with the pride of someone who'd just assembled their own Large Hadron Collider. A few more clicks of the remote and they were watching Avatar.

Moze was so entranced by a life-sized alien running through a life-sized forest she didn't notice the food in front of her until the smell started making her drool. Ned was sitting next to her, absently eating pasta. The rest of the food had been laid out on the coffee table. Loomer was tucking in like the food was about to disappear.

They spent the rest of the movie debating what the creatures on Pandora should be called. Cookie would give them a Latin name '_characidae panthera rodentia_' that, more or less, meant 'Piranha-Tiger-Squirel'. When Loomer had his turn he would combine all the species it looked like and get 'Cowocerark'. Ned and Moze went with: "I will call him 'Jamie'. And he will be 'Fred'. I'll call her 'Patricia'."

By the second half of the movie, the large meal they had eaten was making them all drowsy. Moze still had enough energy to shout advice at the characters, though. Cookie wondered out loud how the mountains stayed floating. They all agreed it was 'because they could'.

Cookie and Loomer were passed out dead away by the second half of the movie. Moze and Ned were watching the two leads prance wildly in the psychedelic forest. She was equal parts fascinated and nauseated by the bonding between them.

"Imagine," she breathed, "being connected to someone else's mind."

"I know what you're thinking most of the time anyway." said Ned.

"And you don't think at all." Moze teased. Ned flicked a canapé at her and they both broke down into giggles.

* * *

><p>Ned, Moze, and Cookie got to school bright and early the next morning. This was the day they presented their project to Ms. Frizzle, and they knew it was going to knock her multi-colored socks off.<p>

They arrived in the wood shop room to find Ms. Frizzle already there looking critically at a large pile of ash in the corner.

"Hey," said Moze walking up to her. "Where's our project?" Ms. Frizzle reached down into the pile and pulled out a metal disc. Shaking the ash off, it was revealed to be a pie pan. Moze reached out and clutched it.

"It...it's all..." she gasped.

"Yep," said Ms. Frizzle sympathetically. "Never attach electrical components to a freshly varnished cabinet. It's Rule #46 of wood working. Rule #47 is never program it to sound like Oprah." She made her way into the hall and went to her room with the three of them in tow. "The saving grace is that the fire didn't spread to the rest of the school."

"How are we going to be graded?" Cookie asked. Moze was still clutching the pie pan, mute with shock.

"First of all," said Ms. Frizzle as she walked into her class room, "you're going to have to clean up the damage in the wood shop room." She punched in a combination on her touch screen wall and a series of icons appeared. "Second, your grade will be calculated based on your real-world project."

"Huh?" Ned asked. Ms. Frizzle tapped a few icons and a video of Ned, Moze, Cookie, and Loomer watching Avatar came up.

"How did you get that?" Cookie asked.

"Loomer sent it to me after I informed him of your plight." she answered. "He pulled it off his house's security camera network. He submitted it as evidence that you three can work as a team to make something great."

"We didn't make anything." said Moze, confused.

"You were there for him," Ms. Frizzle pointed to Loomer on the screen, "when he had no one else. Asking nothing in return. Just because he needed you. You gave exactly what you had to give. You repaired a shelf." she touched Moze's shoulder. "Made him dinner." she touseled Ned's hair. "And set up the biggest home theater for miles." she pinched Cookies cheek. "And all together: you made him happy in his darkest time."

* * *

><p>That evening, Ned and Moze were in Ned's kitchen. Between them was a plate of fried ravioli.<p>

"Loomer called." said Moze. "He said he's getting better at staying standing and he should be back soon."

"That's good." said Ned. "Hopefully, he won't exact vengeance on Coconut Head."

"I impressed upon him very strongly that Coconut Head was to be forgiven." said Moze, her brow furrowed in conviction.

"We really did make a great team." said Ned, smiling contentedly.

"Can't wait to work with you in the future. Cheers." said Moze, and they clinked their ravioli together.


	5. Tripping

**Chapter 5: Tripping**

"_The fool on the hill sees the sun going down, and the eyes in his head see the world spinning round."_

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle, Moze, and Cookie were sitting in Principal Wright's office. Ned was also in the office, but he was in no condition to sit down. At present he was lying on the tile, swatting at what he claimed were 'giant purple wasps'. There were no wasps in the office, purple or otherwise. He jumped up suddenly, wobbled for a bit and headed over to the nearest bookshelf, which he then tried to scale.<p>

Ms. Frizzle walked over to him and pulled him back to her chair by the collar of his shirt. She pulled him into her old chair and once he was down she held him down by his shoulders. Principal Wright opened the door quickly and swiftly closed it behind him, like the room was holding in a dirty secret. He walked around behind his desk and sat down in his chair. He gave the people in front of him a thorough look. Moze and Cookie were trying very hard not to look guilty and staring very hard at the desk in front of them. Ms. Frizzle had a very stoic expression on. Ned looked as if he were worlds away, doing something rather more fun.

Alastair took a deep breath. "Explain to me what happened." he ordered the people in front of him.

Moze's mouth moved around, like it was trying to decide on which ever explanation would be less damning. Finally, she decided: "Well, what happened was..."

* * *

><p>Bright and early that morning, Moze was at her locker taking the time she had before first hour started to clean some out some of the trash that had settled on the bottom of her locker. She was holding a pudding cup wondering when the last time she'd even had junk food. Not since Ned had discovered the joy of cooking, that was for sure. That was when she saw Ned coming down the hall toward her. Then he started walking backwards. Then he scuttled to the side. Then forward again.<p>

Moze closed her locker and started toward him to see what was going on. As he fell against the lockers and slid to the floor, she broke into a full run.

"Ned!" she cried as she knelt down next to him. "Are you okay?"

He looked up at her through half lidded eyes. "Hey, Moze." he said to her.

"Um, hi." she said, confused. "Did you hurt yourself?"

He didn't appear to have heard her, he just stared into her face. He looked like a man who was seeing the night sky for the first time.

"Ned?" she asked.

"You're pretty." he said.

"Ned, focus!" she said, giving him a shake. In response, he reached up and stroked her cheek.

"So pretty..." he said. Moze was temporarily stunned by the chill that corkscrewed down her spine and did funny things to her stomach.

"What's going on?" asked Cookie, who just appeared beside them.

"Uh..." Moze said.

"Moze is pretty." Ned informed Cookie.

"No!" she yelled. "What he meant was...um...he didn't...okay, I got nothing."

Ned heaved himself up from the floor and stumbled toward his locker. He tried to punch his combination into an invisible key-pad.

"That kid is drunk." said Cookie.

* * *

><p>Cookie and Moze hauled Ned into Mr. Sweeney's empty classroom by his feet, his body dragging behind them.<p>

"How did he get drunk?" Moze asked.

"Alcohol." Cookie answered curtly.

"No," said Moze indignantly, "Ned wouldn't do that."

"It's always hard to accept when someone you know has a problem." said Cookie sagely.

"Ned doesn't have a problem." Moze said. As she said this, Ned opened the storage cabinet and rummaged around, asking who drank all the milk.

"Well, he has a problem right now!" Moze relented. "But he's never been like this before, and it might never happen again. We don't even know what's causing this. It doesn't have to be alcohol it might be..."

"Why are there gophers in the ceiling?" Ned asked.

"It might be acid." Cookie joked.

"This isn't funny!" Moze remonstrated. "It might be when it happens to someone else, but this is Ned! Look, you make sure he doesn't...do anything and I'll go get help."

"If the teacher's find out he's been drinking, then he'll be expelled." warned Cookie.

"Right." said Moze. "I'll think of something." she left the room and headed to Room #102.

* * *

><p>Most of Ms. Frizzle's class had already arrived. Groups of students were sitting around chatting, waiting for class to start. Ms. Frizzle was at her touch screen wall, typing something in. Moze walked up to her slowly. She was running through what she was going to ask Ms. Frizzle without giving away the fact that Ned was inebriated in the next room. She was finally next to Ms. Frizzle, still clueless as to how this was going to work.<p>

"Good morning, Jennifer." Ms. Frizzle greeted her cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"I need advice." Moze said.

"What on?" asked Ms. Frizzle.

"Um..." oh, what the heck. "What do I do if I have a friend who's drunk?"

Ms. Frizzle turned away from the screen and gave Moze a somber expression.

"Jennifer," she said gently, "They made every decision that got them to where they were, and they are the only ones who can decide to get better. When they want to resolve the issues behind their addiction and fight against it then you can offer them your help. Until then, do not get attached to a sinking ship. There are resources for people struggling with Alcoholism. AA has a local chapter that..."

"No," Moze stopped her. "I mean, what do I do if I have a friend who's drunk right now."

"Oh," said Ms. Frizzle, switching gears. She started rattling off tips. "Well, while they're awake make sure to keep them hydrated. Gatorade works wonders. If they pass out lay them on their side so they don't drown. Hide their car keys before you do anything else. Find a large mallard and..." she stopped cold and glared at Moze.

"Whadaya mean 'Drunk Right Now'?" Ms. Frizzle asked forcibly. Then there was an explosion coming from Mr. Sweeney's room.

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle flew down the hall. Her dress flew out behind her like a pink, plaid jet stream. Moze was fast on her tail. Seriously, you leave Ned alone for five minutes in a room full of volatile chemicals and...yeah, she should have seen this coming.<p>

As she came around the door and saw the room was covered in a fine layer of ash. Ms. Frizzle was standing in the middle of the room staring up at the ceiling. Moze followed her gaze and saw Cookie plastered on the ceiling. Ms. Frizzle held out both her arms in time to catch him as he fell back to Earth.

"Simon," she said patiently as his head rose to meet her gaze. "What happened?" When Cookie did manage to speak it was halting.

"Ned was..." Cookie started. "he thought that the...and there was a tiger squirrel...they got into the Bunsen burners."

Gordy ran into the room with Vice Principal Crubbs behind him.

"You are to take this," Ms. Frizzle handed Cookie over to Gordy, "to Nurse Hunsucker. After that, search every crack and cranny for Ned. Vice Principal, we need an all points bulletin on Ned Bigby."

"Gotcha, Frizz." said Crubbs. "Crubbs, out!" and he left to patrol the halls.

"Moze," said Ms. Frizzle, "you and I are going to scour this building and find Ned before another classroom goes up in smoke."

* * *

><p>Half an hour into the search, Ned was still the hide and seek champion. Moze had checked all of his usual hangouts, all of his unusual hangouts, and a few of the places he wouldn't be caught dead. Gordy was patrolling the air ducts. Ms. Frizzle and Crubbs were keeping vigil in the hallways. For her part, the weasel was checking behind all the filing cabinets for him.<p>

"This doesn't entirely make sense." Ms. Frizzle said to Crubbs as they passed out side of Mr. Sweeney's ruined classroom. "Ned doesn't strike me as the kind of person to come to school soused."

"Same here," said Crubbs. "Ned may get up to trouble, but this is way past his limit."

"His limit isn't what it used to be." said Mr. Sweeney, coming out of his classroom with a charred model of a cell under one arm. "He's been applying himself in class more. He hasn't been sleeping. His grades are improving. Him getting drunk is less likely than ever before."

"Crubbs," said Ms. Frizzle, "Contact Ned's mother. Find out if anything happened to him this morning."

* * *

><p>Moze ran into the Gym. It was the only place she hadn't searched and there was no where to hide. Just as she stepped in, Coach Dirga stepped out of the locker rooms, sopping wet.<p>

"Mosely!" she screamed. "What the duck is Bigby doing?"

"He's here?" Moze asked.

"Yeah, he's here!" Dirga confirmed. "And he's doing something cacamamie with the showers. He's..." but before she could describe it, a small tidal wave blasted out of the locker rooms and hit Coach Dirga and Moze.

Moze found herself tumbling around in the torrent. She desperately tried to swim to the surface with no clear idea where 'up' even was. Eventually, she felt the ground underneath her and the water subsided, depositing he face up on the floor of the hallway. The wave had carried her clear across the school and she was outside the Administration Office. Water continued to flow down the hall, carrying Ned with it. Ms. Frizzle stepped out of the office and stood directly in the water's path. Ned's body stopped at her feet.

"Oh, hi" he said wistfully. "Can you tell me the way to the beach?"

* * *

><p>"...and then Ms. Frizzle brought us in here." finished Moze.<p>

Principal Wright took a moment to let this story marinate.

"So," he started. "you have no idea why Mr. Bigby is..." he gestured to Ned vaguely.

"We never figured that out." said Cookie. The shock had worn off, and a few wet wipes and a change of clothes had taken care of the ash.

"I did." said Crubbs, walking into the office. "When I called Ned's mother she said he was fine this morning. She made him a smoothie for breakfast and sent him on his way here. She made it from concentrate. She didn't know it had apricots in the mix."

"Oh," said Moze, realization dawned on her. "He's allergic to apricots. The first time he had them was when he was six. He spent the next four hours screaming about pink elephants that wanted to eat him."

"So," piped in Ms. Frizzle, "he didn't break any school rules by getting wasted on apricots."

"Right." said Cookie.

"And he isn't responsible for what happened while he was impaired." said Ms. Frizzle.

"Right." said Moze.

"And the school wouldn't take disciplinary action against him, knowing he wasn't responsible." said Ms. Frizzle.

"Right." said Moze and Cookie together.

"So you two should have told somebody when you knew something was wrong with him." Ms. Frizzle finished.

"Right." they both said again, sinking into their chairs.

"We could have avoided both a fire and a flood if you two had told us." said Alastair. "Even if Bigby had done something wrong, we would have helped him. We don't cut off people's heads the first chance we get. Our job as a school is to make sure our students are safe and healthy. You can come to us with any concern."

"Yes, sir." said Moze, feeling dumber by the second.

"The school has insurance against water damage." Alastair continued. "They will pay for a specialty service to come in and repair the gym floor, no questions asked. Gordy has already set up the dehumidifiers in the hallway. The great puddle of '07 will be cleared up by this afternoon. However, cleaning up Mr. Sweeney's classroom will be your punishment." he said to Moze and Cookie.

"Yes, sir." they said together.

"You look cute when you're guilty." said Ned.

* * *

><p>Ned and Moze were in Ned's kitchen. He was serving chicken pot pie.<p>

"It was nice of you and Loomer to help us clean up Mr. Sweeney's room." said Moze.

"It would have been nicer of me not to blow it up." said Ned.

"It wasn't your fault." Moze placated.

"The worst part is, I didn't even have the fun of trying to blow it up intentionally." Ned lamented.

"The year's not over yet." Moze said.

"I can't believe I came to school tripping." said Ned. He gave her a furtive look. "I, uh...I didn't do anything _too _embarrassing, did I?" he asked.

Moze was temporarily taken back to when he had her face cradled in his hand.

"Nope." she said, and dug into the pie.


	6. Pain

**Chapter 6: Pain**

"_The Joys and the Sorrows of the world are better when shared."_

* * *

><p>Ned was grabbing articles out of his locker at a fast pace. He grabbed blindly, not wanting the thinking process slow him down. He <em>had <em>to get away from his locker. His locker was his own personal section of the school. It was his place of refuge. It was where he hoarded snacks for when lunch couldn't come fast enough. It was where he kept all his experimental tips. Right now, It was where Missy Meany was shamelessly flirting with him.

"What do you think of this shade of lipstick?" Missy asked, puckering suggestively. Ned thought it would look better in a different light, like total darkness.

"How about this top?" she asked, pulling it tighter across her chest. Ned thought it needed a little something, like a burlap sack.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" she asked. Ned was very sure he would be dead about then.

Before Missy could bring this conversation to its logical conclusion, Moze walked by them. She reached out and grabbed Ned by the collar and just kept walking.

"You're the best, Moze." said Ned, as he was dragged behind her.

"Shut up, and weigh less." she said moodily.

* * *

><p>"At some point," Ms. Frizzle said to her class, "you are going to be in pain. I can give you my written guarantee of that." She brought up a diagram of a human body on her touch screen wall. The head of the body was highlighted. "Headaches are a common blight. The ones that aren't caused by brain cancer are just because you're dehydrated. Gatorade is a gift from Heaven for people with chronic migraines. If you don't have Gatorade, you can mix salt with water and Kool Aid powder. It's the same thing. The key is to restore your electrolyte imbalance."<p>

"Another common bane at your age is muscle pains. Muscles always hurt when they grow and they grow from being used. A few of you are aware of this phenomenon. A few hours after practice is over and it feels like your whole body is on fire." she reached out to Ned. He gave her his hand. "You can alleviate the pain of the affected muscle by palpating it like this." She took the heel of her hand and rubbed circles into the soft tissue of Ned's forearm.

"Oh, that feels..."sighed Ned, contentedly.

"Yes, yes it does." said Ms. Frizzle. "For legal reasons, you are here by discouraged from massaging each other." she set Ned's now putty arm back down on his desk.

"Pain is the most capricious sense." she continued. "There are a host of seemingly unrelated things that can reduce pain. Listening to your favorite music has a soothing effect. Even if you like Death Metal, it will soothe you. Eating also reduces pain, especially if it's something sweet. Finally, my personal favorite, handling money."

* * *

><p>"You can't hide back there forever." said Moze.<p>

"Oh, yes I can." said Ned from his hiding spot behind the gym bleachers. Rather than face the machinations of Missy, he had tucked himself away in the most inaccessible place he could think of. Moze was standing in front of the bleachers, trying not to look like she was talking to herself.

"Why don't you just tell her you don't like her?" Moze asked.

"I have." came the response from the bleachers. "She has a crazy shield that repels reality. Why does she even like me anyway? I am not that attractive."

"You have your own appeal." Moze admitted.

"Really?" the bleachers asked.

"Sure." said Moze. There was quiet for a while.

"What is my appeal?" the bleachers asked. Moze didn't answer immediately.

"You have nice skin." she said finally.

"Oh," said the bleachers, expecting rather more. Moze felt a tad guilty. Ned was her friend. He deserved an honest evaluation. In fact, friendship being paramount, he deserved a well-padded evaluation. Awkwardness be damned.

"You're funny." she said after steeling herself. "You're a good cook. You'd do anything to help a friend. You're smart. You're nice to everyone, even if you don't like them. You're really cute-" she clamped her jaw shut as she heard herself say the last part. She had built up a full head of steam and gone too far. It was a mercy she had stopped herself before she commented on how he looked in a bathing suit.

"Oh, um...thanks." said the bleachers. "So, if I had acne, burnt food, and was mean to people, then Missy wouldn't come near me." the bleachers suggested.

"I certainly wouldn't." said Moze. They both laughed.

"Hey," said the bleachers, "how are things with Faymen?"

"Oh, well, still no fireworks." Moze confessed.

"Maybe someone can give him lessons." the bleachers joked.

"There's an idea." said Moze.

"Who do you know who's a good kisser?" the bleachers asked. Moze knew that before she answered that, she would drop dead. As it happened, she didn't have to answer.

The doors of the gym burst open and a pack of bloodhounds ran inside the gym. Missy came in right behind them. The pack made a bee line for the bleachers and crawled into the crevices. Ned Bigby was pulled out of the far end of the bleachers by an excessively slobbery hound who had his teeth clenched on Ned's collar.

"Hey, Ned." Missy said innocently.

"Hi Missy." said Ned as he wiped the drool off his neck.

"Want to walk me to my next class?" she asked.

"This class isn't over yet." said Ned.

"So, we'll have plenty of time to talk." said Missy. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. She was blocked by Moze, who looked livid.

"Missy Meany," Moze said with conviction. "you have relentlessly disturbed our tranquility and unlawfully accosted a defenseless whelp." she pulled a white glove out of her pocket and slapped Missy across her face. "I challenge you to a duel!"

* * *

><p>"So, let's go over the rules." said Ms. Frizzle. She was monitoring the duel. She had dawned a somber black dress and top hat. She wasn't fully sure how she'd gotten roped into this, but she was dressed for the part. Moze and Missy stood on opposite sides of the gym. Each of them had a bucket full of water balloons.<p>

"You each have a bucket of water balloons!" announced Ms. Frizzle. "Each balloon is filled with melted butter. The girl to remain standing after two minutes, wins. Begin!"

The girls pelted each other. There was butter flying everywhere. Both girls were coated in it and it was all over the floor. They were both steadily loosing traction.

"C'mon Moze!" shouted Ned. "Keep it up!"

By now, they were out of butter balloons. They were fighting to stay on their feet. Missy slipped and did a stunning back-flip before landing on the floor. She scrambled to stand up again, but she couldn't get any purchase on the slippery floor.

"Hah!" cried Moze. "What now? You got no-" and then she fell flat on her back. She hastily tried to right herself, but had as much luck as Missy. Both girls continued to flop around helplessly until...

"And Time!" shouted Ms. Frizzle. "We have a draw." she walked out to collect Missy while Ned handed Moze some towels. "I knew I should have given them the Tarantula launchers" Ms. Frizzle said to herself.

* * *

><p>"So, let's go over the rules." said Ms. Frizzle. The results of a draw would never be tolerated in a duel. They were going into extra innings. They were in the basement this time. A water main had ruptured that morning and they were all waist deep in brackish water.<p>

"Each of you have two buckets." Ms. Frizzle continued. "On the roof of the school are two kiddie pools. The red one with green flowers belongs to Moze. The black one with orange polka dots is Missy's. You are to take a bucket of water and pour it into your pool. At the end of one hour, the one with the most water in their pool wins. Go!"

Both girls dunked their buckets under water and headed up the stairs. Moze was taking the stairs to the roof in threes.

"Sweeney lied!" she yelled at nobody. "He told us iron was heavier than water! This stuff weighs three tons a drop!"

"Give it up Mosely!" yelled Missy from the lower landing.

"Never!" Moze grunted, and burst through the door to the roof. She ran to her kiddie pool with Missy charging up, right behind her. She dropped both her buckets into the pool and relished the absence of weight on her arms. She was enjoying a few cleansing breaths when she heard Missy's footsteps on the stairs back down. She grabbed her buckets and ran downstairs like the devil was at her heels.

Forty five minutes later, Ned and Ms. Frizzle were at the foot of the stairs. Every few seconds, a girl would run by carrying buckets of water. At this late stage in the duel, they looked like they could collapse at any minute. They were unsteady from exhaustion and more water had spilled on the floors than was getting to the roof. In spite of all this, they had looks of determination in their eyes that a tsunami couldn't deter.

"Moze," said Ned, as he and Ms. Frizzle followed her to the roof. "You don't need to do this. You're going to rupture something."

"That's nonsense." she groaned, in spite of the fact that she agreed with him entirely.

"This isn't worth it!" Ned said.

"I take people harassing my _friend_ very personally." she responded. She emphasized the word 'friend' in a very odd way.

"You're going down Mosely!" Missy cried from down the stairs, catching up quickly.

Moze dashed up the remaining flights and kicked the door open. She stopped dead, looking outside. Missy came up behind her and dropped both buckets.

"Well, this is unfortunate." said Ms. Frizzle. It was pouring rain outside. Both kiddie pools were overflowing. Moze had a duck wadding in her pool.

* * *

><p>"Ok, let's go over the rules." said Ms. Frizzle. They were in the library this time. Someone had called a duel, and there was going to be a clear winner if they all had to die trying. "You are each going to read this book." Ms. Frizzle held up a copy of <span>The Sound and the Fury<span>. "You have half an hour to read it entirely. They you have another ten minutes to complete a short test." She slapped down two binders on the desk. She tossed each girl a copy. "Go!"

Each girl started reading furiously. Moze's eyes were moving so quickly she was going to be the first person in history to have eye cramps. Missy was flipping pages so fast her fingertips had started bleeding.

"I can't think of anything I'd be willing to study that hard for." said Ned.

"iTeacher is gonna jump out of her screen when she sees this." Ms. Frizzle said, holding a video camera trained at the girls.

Half an hour later, Ms. Frizzle took the books away, surreptitiously putting Missy's in a biohazard bag. She handed them each the test and a pen. Ten minutes after that, she took the tests back. Moze desperately tried to hang on to hers.

"Ok," said Ms. Frizzle, "I have the results. Jennifer, out of a hundred questions you got none right and misspelled your name."

"Yes!" cried Missy, jumping up. "In your face Mosely!" Moze groaned and rubbed her eyes. Halfway through speed reading the book, everything started to go blurry. All she could make out of Ms. Frizzle was a red haze.

"Missy," said Ms. Frizzle, "your test was covered in blood and I couldn't grade it. My insurance won't even cover me anymore if I touch it."

"Fine!" Missy yelled, looking a little to close to deranged for comfort. "What do we do now?"

* * *

><p>"I officially decree that I give up." said Ms. Frizzle. They were in the wood shop room now. Ned was tied down to the table in front of her. "Since all the duels ended in abysmal failure, I am going to interpret the will of the universe as you both have equal rights to Ned Bigby."<p>

"We're going to share him?" Missy asked incredulously.

"Not exactly." said Ms. Frizzle producing a circular saw. "We're cutting him in half!" she said, laughing maniacally.

"Okay," said Moze passively.

"Wait!" shouted Ned, struggling uselessly against the restraints.

"Don't distract me, Ned." said Ms. Frizzle. "I want to do this in one cut."

"Stop!" said Missy. Ms. Frizzle turned off the saw. "Yes, Missy?" she said.

"I love Ned." she said. "I would rather give him up than let him die. Mosely can have him."

Ms. Frizzle looked appraisingly at Missy. "That is a very magnanimous gesture. Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes." Missy nodded.

"Okay." said Ms. Frizzle. She gave one tug on Ned's restraints and they all came off. "Ned Bigby, you belong to Jennifer Mosely. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Not wasting any time, he jumped off the bench, grabbed Moze's arm and pulled her out of the room.

"Hang on!" Missy shouted at Ms. Frizzle. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"What do you mean?" asked Ms. Frizzle.

"You were supposed to let me have him because I cared enough to give him up if it meant saving him." Missy said, indignant.

"What you are referring to is the Judgement of Solomon." explained Ms. Frizzle. "This is the Judgement of Frizzle. The only similarity is that there's no appeal." and Ms. Frizzle left the room.

* * *

><p>"I'm so sorry, Moze." Ned repented. He was in Moze's room. She was lying down on her bed, holding very still.<p>

"It's not your fault." Moze groaned half-heartedly. She was in a world of hurt. She had bruises on every corner of her body from falling on the gym floor. Her muscles were screaming in pain from wear and tear she gave them carrying water buckets for an hour. Her eyes actually had cramps. Her brain even had cramps. Both of them from the blitz-cram.

"I brought you Death by Chocolate." Ned offered.

Moze opened her eyes to see a large mass of chocolaty goodness on her dresser.

"Thanks, Ned." she said. "Ms. Frizzle did say junk food eases pain." Ned let the junk food remark slide. "She said money helps, too. Feel free to start shoveling it into my room."

"Someday I will," he said, "to thank you for saving me."

He remembered there was one other thing Ms. Frizzle said would help, but had keenly discouraged. In spite of that, he couldn't stand to see her in pain. He reached out and took her arm tentatively and rubbed soothing circles into the soft tissue of her arm.

"Does that feel better?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes." Moze said relieved. The pain was actually ebbing away. In it's place was a blissful tingly sensation. That might have been more to do with the person touching her than his technique. The phrase '_Totally worth it!_' echoed around in her mind.


	7. Thanatopsis

**Chapter 7: Thanatopsis**

"_Don't take life too seriously. No one makes it out alive anyway."_

* * *

><p>Cookie was in the computer lab of James K. Polk Middle School. He was elbow deep in circuit boards trying to find the one short in a thousand connections. He had been asked to stay after school and fix a glitch in the lab's machines.<p>

"What do you think happened?" asked Martin Qwerly. "Everything was working fine and then all the monitors in the lab started flickering. A few of them shorted out. Some of the PCs were making a grinding sound. I thought there was a power surge, but there aren't any thunderstorms in the area. So then I went to-"

"Someone was trying to run a cell phone operating system on the school server." Cookie interrupted. "Mr. Kwest probably thought he could use it to make the system faster. Real stupidity beats artificial intelligence every time." He slid the panel back onto the PC and all the lab computers came back to life.

"Awesome!" cried Martin. He ran back to his terminal. "My report is still here. Mr. Pal has us doing a fifteen page report on World War II. I didn't think I'd be able to type that much. Then, he said we could use pictures as long as the page was at least three quarters text. I found a great picture of the Storming of Normandy. I was trying to find a picture of Churchill, but he isn't really a combatant, so I don't know if..."

Martin rambled on, but Cookie wasn't focused on him. He was looking at the picture on Martin's monitor. It was a photo of the storming of Normandy. There was a group of nurses attending to some damaged soldiers. One of the nurses had her hair styled in what can only be described as an explosion. If the picture colored the hair red, it would be a dead ringer for Ms. Frizzle.

That was impossible, of course. This picture was seven decades old. Ms. Frizzle couldn't be more than... well, she couldn't be...could she?

* * *

><p>"Jen, honey!" Mrs. Mosely called from the back room of the café. "Do you know where your father put the carafes?"<p>

"The shelf next to the water heater!" Moze called back from the front window. Moze's mother owned a small eatery a few streets down from the Middle School. Moze had come in early that day to help her set up for a retirement party that her mother had booked. Together, they had set up the food table and put up the decorations. Her mother was getting the last of the supplies together for when they were ready to serve lunch. Moze was cleaning the front windows of the café. It hadn't been cleaned since the last flock of geese visited town and left their calling card. Still, Moze wasn't bothered by the work. They were going to be done sooner than expected and she could get to school early. Cookie had called her last night and told her that there was a picture from WWII she had to see to believe.

"Jen!" her mother called. "Can you help me get these down? Your father put them high up so they wouldn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Coming mom!" said Moze. She put the squeegee down and went inside the café. She left her backpack sitting outside. A girl with long dark hair came around the corner as soon as Moze went through the door. She dashed down to the storefront and scooped up the backpack. A car pulled up beside the store and the little thief jumped in.

"Hey!" cried Moze, bursting through the door. She had finished in the store room just in time to see the girl snatch up her nap-sack. She was too late. The car was speeding away.

"Aaargh!" Moze screamed angrily. She stalked back inside to tell her mother. This was a disaster. She had her cell phone, her wallet, her homework, Ned's survival guide, everything in that back pack. She would have to go to the police station and make a report. She would be late for school now. This was going to be a bad day.

Down the road from the café, where the getaway car hadn't reached yet, a bony figure in a dark cloak waited by the road side. It was unseen by mortal eyes and heard only by the part of the brain that is afraid of things that go 'bump' in the night.

I CAN GUARANTEE YOU, JENNIFER, it said, SOMEONE ELSE IS GOING TO HAVE AN EVEN WORSE DAY.

* * *

><p>As Ned sat in Ms. Frizzle's Heuristics class, he wondered why Moze hadn't shown up this morning. She said she would give him back the guide this morning. She insisted on editing it on a regular basis after the Cheese Pants Fiasco. She would have called and told him if she was sick. Maybe she was skipping.<p>

"Today," said Ms. Frizzle, "we're going to talk about Death." At the mention of this the whole class straightened up. "You are going to die. That is a statistical guarantee. Everyone you know is going to die, unless one of you knows Sean Connery. The minute you entered the world, the world began planning how to send you back. At some point, you are going to ask 'why?' The truth is: sometimes destruction is a good thing. Something old is gone and something new can take its place."

"However, loosing someone is always terrible. There is no easy way to get past it. You must-" the classroom phone went off. She walked over to the wall and answered it.

"Yes?" she asked. She listened for a while, then hung up.

"Ned Bigby." she said walking back to the front of the room. "You are wanted by Vice Principal Crubbs. Please, go to him immediately."

Ned gathered up his stuff and left the room, trying to remember what he had done this time. When he reached the Administration Office, he was surprised to find Crubbs waiting for him by the door. His expression was placid. He didn't even bother to dramatically pull off his sunglasses.

"You wanted to see me?" Ned asked, wondering what happened to knock the silly out of his usually boisterous Vice Principal.

"Yes, Ned." Crubbs said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "We're having trouble getting a hold of Jennifer Mosely's parents. Do you know where they are?"

Ned suddenly became aware of a uniformed cop standing in a far corner of the room, watching them. She was holding something behind her back.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked, feeling a weight of a million tiny tons settling in his chest.

"It might be nothing." said Crubbs. "Do you know where her parents are?"

"She's at her restaurant, setting up for a party. Moze told me last night that she was going to help her before school." Ned answered. "Her dad is in Kuala Lampur for the week."

Hearing this, the officer spoke into her radio. "We have confirmation on the driver." She shifted and Ned saw what she had behind her back. It was Moze's backpack, in an evidence bag, bloodied.

"What happened?" Ned cried, making a grab for the bag. Crubbs held him back by his shoulders in a grasp that was firm, but still gentle. At the same time he gave the officer a look that was the facial equivalent of flipping someone off. He turned Ned to face him and knelt down.

"Ned," Crubbs started. "There was a car accident a few blocks away from here. There were no survivors. The only ID we found was in that backpack..." he took a deep breath, "and the girl who had it matches Jennifer's description."

"Matches her description?" Ned repeated back.

"It was..." Crubbs tried to explain, "...impossible to recognize because...all they could tell is the build, height, and hair all match..."

Ned didn't wait to hear anymore. He broke free of Crubbs' grasp and raced outside and down the hall. He wasn't sure were he was going. He wasn't even paying attention. A debate raged inside him between the part of him saying, based on the evidence, something terrible had happened and a much louder part of him saying: This could not be happening!

He had stopped. He stood in front of the only wooden locker door in the school. It was truly a piece of art. There wasn't another one like it in the world, probably. Ned knew the same was true for the friend he'd just lost. He braced himself against the lockers and leaned his head against the treasured oak door. The shock had worn off and the sobs racked his body and the tears flowed freely.

Moze was dead! They had been friends for their entire lives. They had lived next door to each other since their embryonic stage. He couldn't possibly care about her any more even if she were biologically family. He couldn't even imagine life without seeing her everyday. The very idea was entirely foreign. It was downright terrifying. And now, it was reality. Except...

"Ned?" he heard a voice behind him. A part of him said it couldn't be. A louder part of him was rejoicing. It was the part of him that would know that voice anywhere.

"What's wrong?" Moze asked.

Ned turned around. There she was. Standing in the middle of the hallway, looking confused and very, very alive. He took one great stride toward her, took her face in his hands and kissed her. Moze, despite being utterly shocked, was not about to stop him. Ned's lips lingered on hers, tears still running down his face, but he cherished every one of these tears. In any other situation he would wonder what it said about his feelings for her that he greeted her return from the dead like this, but relief came in a flood and swept every other worldly care away. If Crubbs hadn't interrupted just then he probably would have stayed in that position until he passed out from hunger.

"Jennifer Mosely!" Crubbs cried as he came around the corner and saw them. Ned didn't move at all, but Moze pulled away.

"Uh, I'm sorry I'm late." she said to Crubbs. Ned was still staring into her face. "I was at the Police Station."

"Oh..." Crubbs remarked. He really didn't know what to make of all this. Then he remembered that no one else enrolled at James K. Polk was absent that day and the one that was dead wasn't. The accident, while tragic, was not his problem anymore.

"I'll let it slide Jennifer." he said, and stared walking back to his office. "Oh," he turned back to her. "You're backpack is in my office."

"You caught the girl who stole it, already?" Moze asked, surprised. Ned still hadn't let go.

"Sort of." said Crubbs.

* * *

><p>At the back of the school, A large crate was being lowered down from a truck bed.<p>

"Okay, sir." the driver said to Gordy. "Just sign here."and handed Gordy a clip board.

Gordy signed with a flourish and waved the driver goodbye. He stood back to look at the crate. It was big enough to accommodate three men. Inside, you could hear a faint rumbling purr.

Gordy smiled excitedly, for this was the day that the weasel was going to meet his doom.

* * *

><p>"In the first century, during the Roman occupation of present day England, the Britons were united under the leadership of Boadicea..." Mr. Pal droned.<p>

Cookie couldn't really focus on the history of the United Kingdom right now. He could barely make sense of this morning. One minute, word was going out that Moze was dead. The next minute, that she was dating Ned. The minute after, Moze was actually alive. It said a lot about the minds of the students that the rumors had been spread in that order.

Moze was shocked at what happened. She felt deeply conflicted as to whether she even wanted her stuff back. The police had returned her wallet, cell-phone, and a mercifully blood-free survival guide. Her teachers had graciously given her a pass on the homework that was due that day. She had been issued new textbooks, and Backpack Boy had given her one of his extra backpacks as a Welcome-Back-From-The-Dead gift.

Ned was the only problem that lingered. He kept staring at her. Not just stared, it was a look that was so tender Cookie felt like he had walked in on them kissing. Moze didn't seem to mind, but his unashamed gaze and her uncontrollable blushing caused the rest of the students gawk and gossip. By third period, Ms. Frizzle made Ned put on a pair of aviators to dampen the effect.

"And here," said Mr. Pal projecting a picture on the overhead screen, "is a full color picture of one of the tapestries depicting the Razing of London. You will recall the European people would use needle work to make images depicting important points in their history. You can see the Roman centurions..."

But Cookie had lost focus again. One of the British soldiers on the tapestry was a woman who had been rendered with an explosion of red hair. It couldn't have been Ms. Frizzle though. This tapestry was nearly two thousand years old. It couldn't be. Never. Not possible.

Then again...

* * *

><p>Moze worked diligently on the box she was making for wood shop. They had made a simple jewelry box. Now, they could carve any design of their choice onto the exterior. She was determined to throw herself into the project and completely ignore any other thoughts on her mind. She was failing horribly.<p>

The inconvenience of being dead had passed, now she had to deal with being alive. As anyone can tell you, living is the hard part.

Ned was acting really weird. She was glad he'd missed her, but the way he greeted her made her seriously question what there relationship even was now. She was pretty sure he wouldn't have kissed Cookie like that if he'd returned from the dead. She was pretty sure he hadn't even kissed Suzie like that. When he kissed her like that, the world lit up like ten million fire flies. The look he kept giving her was another thing. She had known him his entire life and never seen that expression before. Ms. Frizzle said it was Adoration. It didn't make her feel butterflies like Faymen's stare did. It made her feel...pretty, and under that, something...warm and happy. She swore she must have hit her head in that car accident she wasn't in.

"Hello Jennifer." Mr. Chopsaw greeted. "Congratulations on staying alive!"

"Thank you, sir." said Moze. He may be indelicate, but he was reliably straightforward.

"Nice heart pattern," he said. "Didn't think you'd go for something so girlish though." and he walked away.

"Huh?" Moze wondered, and then she looked down at her jewelry box. In the midst of her rumination her hands had been working independently from her head. The two traitorous appendages had been carving dozens of delicate hearts on the box.

This was a bad day.

* * *

><p>Ned couldn't remember having a better day. He was in Home Ec, making curry balls, and ruminating on what a great day it was.<p>

The sun was shining warmly. Moze was alive. They hadn't been assigned any homework in English. Moze was alive. He had finished his history project early. Moze was alive. And most importantly, Moze was alive. Great day all around. It wouldn't surprise him if today marked the start of a stable and lasting peace in the Middle East.

He finished rolling the last of the curry balls. It was ashame Moze wouldn't be able to try any, the recipe they were using called for liberal use of saffron. Moze was allergic to saffron, you see.

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle was walking down a second story hallway when she heard Gordy giggling from one of the empty classrooms. She hadn't worked here long before learning that Gordy giggling was a bad sign. She gave the door a knock.<p>

"Who is it?" Gordy called.

"It's Valerie Frizzle." she answered.

"Oh, come in, quick." Gordy said.

She walked into the room to find a pile of food pellets on the floor. Across the room was a huge crate. Gordy was seated on top of it with a crow bar in hand.

"I give up." she said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to catch the weasel." he said with malice.

"You're going to throw a crate at it?" she asked.

"No, I special ordered a bob cat, the natural enemy of the weasel in the wild. When the weasel comes for the food, I open the crate, and guess who's coming to dinner." Gordy bragged.

"Isn't that crate a little big for a bob cat?" Ms. Frizzle asked, wondering how a bob cat in the school could possibly be better than a weasel.

"It's just so he has room to move around." answered Gordy. You could definitely hear something moving around in there.

"And after it eats the weasel," Ms. Frizzle continued, "how do you propose we catch a bob cat?"

"Uh..." Gordy thought. And kept on thinking.

* * *

><p>Moze hastily shoved books into her locker. The faster she got to her next class was the less people stared. Honestly, nothing had actually happened to her. She hadn't been killed. She hadn't even caught a cold recently. There was no reason for everyone to be acting differently.<p>

"Hi Jennifer." said Lisa Zemo, walking up to her holding a plate of little, brown balls.

"Hi Lisa." said Moze.

"I'm glad you're okay." Lisa said awkwardly.

"Thanks, Lisa." said Moze, gratefully. Amidst all the whispering and looks, it was a comforting reminder that there were some people who actually cared she was safe.

"Hey, do you want a curry ball?" Lisa asked. "We just made them in Home Ec."

"Sure." said Moze, reaching for one. Free food made everything better.

Before she could take one, a blur shot out of nowhere and tackled Lisa to the floor. Moze looked down flabbergasted. Ned was keeping Lisa pinned to the floor with one hand while the other hand was holding the plate of curry balls. He had somehow managed to keep them from spilling.

Down the hall, an unseen figure in a dark robe retreated.

HE MIGHT BE CLUELESS, it said, BUT NED BIGBY'S GOT STYLE.

* * *

><p>Gordy patiently watched the weasel bait from his seat atop the bob cat crate. For the hundredth time, he assured himself that it would be along any minute now.<p>

"Any luck?" Ms. Frizzle asked as she walked in.

"Any minute now." Gordy said.

"Maybe the weasel got dive tackled by Ned." Ms. Frizzle joked.

"Eh?" Gordy asked.

"Word in the halls is Ned saved Moze from a lethal dose of saffron." said Ms. Frizzle.

"By dive tackling her?" Gordy asked.

"No, what happened was - Weasel!" Ms. Frizzle yelled, pointing to the bait. The weasel was munching away at the pellets.

Gordy jammed the crow bar into the seal of the crate. Ms. Frizzle had just enough time to jump next to Gordy on the crate before the side fell open. After a moment, a big cat lumbered out. In point of fact, it was bigger than Gordy had expected.

"I'm no Zoologist," said Ms. Frizzle, "but I'm pretty sure bob cats aren't orange with black stripes."

She was right, of course. That trait is exclusive to tigers. The tiger in question looked around the room, stopping to linger on the two meat bags on it's old crate.

Ms. Frizzle slowly removed her high heels.

"What are you doing?" Gordy whispered, keeping his eyes on the tiger.

"I'm getting ready to run." Ms. Frizzle whispered back.

"Can you outrun a tiger?" Gordy asked.

"I don't have to outrun the tiger." said Ms. Frizzle. "I just have to outrun you."

The tiger, however, had lost interest, and decided to see what was outside. It lumbered gracefully out the door without giving the weasel a second glance.

* * *

><p>Moze was trying to focus on polynomials, but with Ned sitting next to her she found it hard to give a toss how much x equaled. He still had the aviators on, but every few seconds she could feel his gaze flit over to her. It was a sensation not at all conducive to focusing on algebra.<p>

She really had no clue where things would go after today. At some point they would have to talk about that kiss. At some point she would have to thank him for saving her from death by curry. At some point, he would come back down to Earth and the implications of everything that had happened today would come crashing down and they would spend the rest of their lives being awkward around each other, he'd move to Bangalore to avoid her, and the moon would crash into the Pacific ocean killing everything. Okay, that last one might be a little of a panicked exaggeration, but this was still very serious!

Honestly, the only thing that could make this day worse was...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a something sniffing at her elbow. She turned towards the distraction to tell it to bugger off, and found herself staring into the eye of the tiger.

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle was watching a steak sizzle in the schools kitchen microwave. While waiting for it to fully defrost, she was listening to Gordy freak out.<p>

"I don't understand why I got a tiger! The catalog specifically said I would be sent a bob cat that could not eat anybody!" he ranted.

"It was probably a clerical error." said Ms. Frizzle. "Whatever company is sending unqualified people wild animals probably is remiss about paper work."

"I mean, really!" Gordy ranted on. "How do you mail a tiger by accident? How can you not take that job seriously?"

"The saving grace is," said Ms. Frizzle, "that it got out between classes when everyone was safely sealed in their classrooms. We got word to Crubbs in time. All the teachers got the order to lock their doors. I called my Aunt Badall, certified cat herder, to help us get it out of the school. It's not as bad as it could have been."

From down the hallway they heard panicked screaming and people running for their lives.

"Okay," amended Ms. Frizzle, grabbing the steak out of the microwave with a meat hook, "_now _it's as bad as it could be."

* * *

><p>This was the worst day ever. After the disbelief of seeing a tiger in their classroom had worn off, everything had degraded into chaos. The students were jumping over each other to get out of the door. Through all the stampeding and girlish screaming, the tiger had never taken it's eyes off Moze. There was no way she could get away in the confusion, because the tiger wasn't confused. It knew exactly what it wanted: her.<p>

She was backing up against the wall, with the tiger padding one paw forward for every slow step she took back. There was one good chance. If she could open one of the windows behind her she could jump out and fall to the pavement below. As a personal preference, falling onto a concrete slab beat being eaten by a tiger.

She reached back to the catch on the window, still facing the tiger. She undid the lock and threw herself against the window to open it. To her horror, but no surprise, the window remained resolutely shut.

She had nowhere to run, and the tiger kept padding forward. She closed here eyes and squeezed herself against the wall. She knew, this was, as they say, It.

Then she felt something she didn't expect. She could feel someone standing in front of her and hands grab her arms. Her eyes snapped open and she was confronted by a mop of brown hair. Ned was body blocking the tiger and holding her firmly behind him.

"Ned?" she yelled, outraged. This white knight business had gone too far. She struggled against his grip, but it was no good. Since when was he this strong?

"I have a plan." Ned said calmly, staring the tiger down. Moze stopped fighting.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Run for it." he told her.

"That's not a plan." she said through clenched teeth. "We can't outrun a tiger."

"You don't have to outrun the tiger." he corrected. "You just have to outrun me." Then the tiger closed the gap between it and them. They both clenched their eyes shut.

* * *

><p>I THINK I JUST HAD ANOTHER NEAR MOZE EXPERIENCE.<p>

* * *

><p>Ned felt a firm pressure against his stomach. As it continued in a gentle rubbing motion, he opened his eyes to look down.<p>

Well, this tiger wasn't with the program at all. By all rights, it should be eviscerating him, but it was nuzzling his tummy.

"Um..." he tentatively put a hand on it's massive, skull-crushing head, and gave it a rub. "Good kitty?"

The tiger raised it's head and nuzzled Ned's face.

"Well, this is wrapping up nicely." said Ms. Frizzle from the doorway, a steak dangling from her hand.

The tiger turned to look at her. She held the steak up in front of her, and gave it a tempting wiggle. The tiger bounded up to it and Ms. Frizzle threw it to the other side of the room. The tiger cornered sharply and snatched it up. As it was tucking in, Ned and Moze sprinted to the door. They passed Ms. Frizzle, she slammed the door shut, and locked it.

* * *

><p>The entire student body was gathered in the gym. They were informed that there was a security breach and that they were to remain there until the threat was removed from the premises. In order to reduce panic and give them something else to focus on them. Mrs. Pascal, of the Art department, was giving an impromptu lecture on Ancient Egyptian frescoes. Cookie was vaguely paying attention to the use of shading in the Old Kingdom and sneaking glances toward the front row. Ned and Moze were sitting down there in between Mr. Chopsaw and Mr. Sweeney.<p>

Cookie was bursting with curiosity as to what was really going on, and he was sure those two had details. He had been in English class when the call went out over the intercom: Everyone was to report to the gym. Once they had gotten in, the doors had been locked up tight. There were strange rumors going around that there was a wild animal in the building. Depending on who you asked it was either a lion, a tiger, or a bear.

Ned and Moze, along with some others, had already been in here when the other classes started coming in. The two were being watched by Chopsaw and Sweeney, like they were expected to pass out dead away at any moment. Really, Moze just looked cranky. Ned seemed blissfully content to be there.

Next to him, Lance Widget nudged him with a book. Cookie took it from him. It was an album of the frescoes Mrs. Pascal was talking about. She was handing it around as a visual aid. He flipped it open to a random page and was greeted by a picture of an ancient Egyptian painting of a red head with wild hair.

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle watched the truck drive away from the school. The tiger was someone else's problem now.<p>

"Aunt Badall was thrilled." Ms. Frizzle said to the black cloaked figure standing next to her. "She said a Tiger that well trained is hard to come by."

INDEED THAT IS SO, said the figure. THE PAPERWORK THAT THIS CATASTROPHE IS GOING TO GENERATE DOESN'T EVEN BARE THINKING ABOUT.

"There will be an investigation, naturally." Ms. Frizzle said. "The ax is going to fall on the company that accidentally mailed a tiger to a school. If that mistake is anything to go by I don't think they even have the proper records to implicate Gordy."

THE MOP HAIRED CHILD ROSE TO THE OCCASION SPLENDIDLY. The figure commented. HE HAS GREAT INNER STRENGTH.

"Oh, yes." said Ms. Frizzle proudly. "I see great adventures in his future."

AND THE GIRL WITH THE BIG BROWN EYES. The figure added.

"Yes, she is in his future, too." Ms. Frizzle said. "The two are inextricably linked."

BODY BLOCKING A TIGER GOES A LONG WAY TO CEMENTING A FRIENDSHIP FOREVER. The figure observed.

"I somehow don't think they'll simply be 'friends' for much longer." said Ms. Frizzle turning to go back inside the school.

YOU KNOW, the figure said after her, THE YOUNG MAN WHO IS PART CYBORG BELIEVES THAT YOU ARE 5000 YEARS OLD.

Ms. Frizzle chuckled to herself.

"That's just silly." she said. "I don't even turn 173 until next month."

* * *

><p>Ned and Moze were in Ned's kitchen that evening.<p>

"Here you go." Ned said. "Saffron free curry balls!" he put the plate in front of Moze. She tried one. It was sweet and spicy bliss.

"You know," Ned wondered. "I don't know if I'll ever look at food the same after nearly being eaten."

Moze stayed quiet and stared determinedly at her plate.

Ned was afraid of this. She had clearly been traumatized.

"You know if you need to talk to someone -" he started.

"I need to talk to you." she said suddenly, looking up at him. "How can you go on like nothing happened?"

"I just doesn't bother me." he said. "I don't think I'll ever be attacked by another tiger, so I'm not -"

"I mean the kiss." she interrupted, clearly annoyed.

"That's what's bothering you?" he asked. It couldn't have been that bad. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"So you regret it?" Moze asked.

"I was glad you were there." Ned tried to explain. "I thought you were gone. I was so happy. It just felt like the right thing to do. It doesn't have to mean anything else. I know you like Faymen. He's your boyfriend. We're best friends. We shouldn't ruin -"

Moze cut him off. More specifically, his mouth stopped moving when she started kissing him. They didn't talk anymore after that.


	8. Faith

**Chapter 8: Faith**

"_Faith is the substance of what is hoped for and the evidence for what you cannot see."_

* * *

><p>It was Saturday and Moze was at school. This wasn't a nightmare, or a cruel and unusual punishment. She was working at a fund raiser. Mr. Chopsaw had been asking for replacements for defective tools in the wood shop since the Nixon administration. He had finally decided to pony up the dough himself rather than try and get water from a dry well.<p>

To that end, his students had been working for months to make woodcarvings and other products to be sold at this fund raiser. Tables were set up all over the gym displaying the premier woodwork of James K. Polk. Moze had personally made a rocking chair, two secretaries, and a spice rack.

In addition to donating pieces, she'd donated her time. She'd been there since eight in the morning and spent the next eight hours manning the cash box. Her duties were taking payment for goods, providing change, and keeping a record of how much was made and who bought what.

At present, she was adding up the profits from the day. Then she squared it. Then she divided by 1,234. Then she converted it to binary. These numbers weren't important, she was just trying to keep her mind off of something else. However, no matter how much she multiplied, subtracted, extrapolated or derived, her thoughts would wander from the logical comfort of math and settle on the pernicious confusion of Ned Bigby.

Last week, over a plate of fantastic curry balls, she had kissed him. To make matters more awkward, she had immediately ran out of his house and hid in her room. They hadn't discussed it since then. Since then, they hadn't talked much. They spent the classes they had together focused on their work. At lunch, they sat on opposite ends of the table while Cookie talked to fill the silence. When they were at home, they didn't visit each other. They had lived right next to each other their entire lives and now they were avoiding each other at all costs. She had heard from Ned's mother that he wasn't cooking at home anymore.

Moze realized this was ridiculous. They were best friends. They could work through this. They'd been through everything together, including Cheese Pants and Tiger attacks. One of them just had to confront the other and say: I just want to be friends. In spite of knowing this in her brain she wasn't entirely convinced she just wanted to be friends. Maybe Ned would say it first and she wouldn't have to bother hashing that out. So, she was resolved: He makes the first move.

Oh, God, what if he doesn't want to be friends?

"Jennifer." Mr. Chopsaw said. Moze's head jerked out of that horrifying thought.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"It's four o'clock. We're going to tear down." he said.

She saw behind him that students were moving away what few items remained unsold and folding up tables.

"What's the final tally?" he asked her.

Moze looked down to consult her ledger.

"We've made $1,523.00 in sales and someone turned in a nickel they found on the floor." she answered.

"Every nickel counts." said Mr. Chopsaw, smiling broadly. He took a key ring out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"I need to stay here and supervise. Can you put the cash box in the office for me?" he asked.

"Sure." she said taking the keys and picking the cash box up.

"Just put in in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet closest to Crubbs office." he told her.

She took the box to the office as instructed. She unlocked the office door and found the filing cabinet. She unlocked the bottom drawer and put the cash box inside on top of two other boxes already in there. Locking everything back up, she went back to help in the gym.

* * *

><p>Ned was sitting at his desk in Room #102 when Moze walked in on Monday morning. She gave him a quick good morning and sat next to him. She immediately buried herself in her algebra text book. Ned knew she just wanted to avoid talking to him. The rigid way she was sitting and the way her eyes kept flitting over to him were signs that she her mind was on something else. The fact that she was holding her text book upside down was another clue.<p>

He didn't know what was going on, but he had the faint inkling it was his fault. It seemed perfectly straightforward to him. He was glad she was back, from the dead no less, so he had kissed her. That was to be expected. The feeling of relief carried on through the day so whenever he looked at her he felt a pervasive sense of joy. That was logical. He'd body blocked a tiger because the idea of her dying, again, was onerous. That was totally normal. Finally, when she'd kissed him that night he had felt a more static than ten million lighting storms. That was...he didn't know what that was.

At some point, he knew one of them would have to confront the other and say: I just want to be friends. He would have to be the one to do this since she looked about as eager to talk to him as skate on thin ice. It was strange. She never backed down from anything, but, just like when the rumor that he liked her made its rounds, she had avoided bringing it up until he cornered her. Her irrational fear aside, this had gone on long enough. Today, he would tell her they could stay friends and they could go back to how things were.

He turned to talk to her just as the thought '_Oh, God. What if she doesn't want to be friends?' _crossed his mind, stopping him dead.

"Good morning, class." Ms. Frizzle said from the front of the room.

"Good morning, Ms. Frizzle." the class answered back.

"Today, we're going to talk about Faith." she said. "Everyone has faith, whether they know it or not. You all practice your faith on a daily basis. You all walk on the sidewalk because you believe that the cars on the street won't swerve to hit you. You have no proof that they won't. They very easily could. But you have faith that they will abide by basic traffic laws and the philosophy of non maleficence."

She started walking up and down the rows of desks as she continued.

"Day to day life depends on the faith we have in each other. People put their money in banks only because they have faith that the teller isn't going to take the money and run. Faith in more vague concepts are also important. You come to school everyday and do your best because you believe in the future you will get a job, be financially independent, and useful to the community. Most importantly," she passed between Ned and Moze's desks, slowing down deliberately, "you believe the people you love, love you in return. Without this, life is a very terrible place. Without the strength faith gives us we could not function, not as individuals and not as a species. Faith is what gets us out of bed in the morning to keep fighting the good fight. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence for things not seen."

The classroom phone rang.

"The true test of Faith," she said without moving, "is holding onto it when all the evidence says to give it up."

The phone kept ringing, but she seemed transfixed on a point on the back wall.

"Jennifer," she said finally, "you are to report to Vice Principal Crubbs."

* * *

><p>Moze peaked inside the Administration Office. If it turned out Ms. Frizzle was right about them wanting her, then she going to have to seriously reconsider her general disbelief in psychic powers.<p>

"Oh, there you are, Jennifer." said Ms. Cope from behind her desk. "How did Ms. Frizzle know...I mean, she didn't answer her phone..."

"It's best not to question these things." said Moze. "Crubbs wants me?" she asked.

"Oh, yes." said Ms. Cope, her tone becoming serious. "Go right in."

Moze walked past her through the open doors of the Vice Principal's office.

"Good morning, Jennifer." he greeted as she walked in. "Do you recall what you did with the money from the wood shop fund raiser this weekend past?"

"I put the cash box in the filing cabinet." she said as she turned and pointed to the drawer.

"I was afraid of that." he said, looking down. "The money is missing."

"Eh?" she asked, despite having herd him clearly.

"I was supposed to deposit it this morning, but the cash box was gone." he expatiated. "Neither Ms. Cope nor Mr. Chopsaw have it either. This is clearly a case of theft." he put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight uncomfortable. "Unfortunately, there are protocols we have to follow. Suspects must be compiled and the police will have to be informed."

"Um, why is that unfortunate?" she asked. It seemed well organized to her. She wanted that money going into the wood shop, and some one was in desperate need of a punishment.

"Because," said Crubbs. "You were the last person who had access to the cash box and one of only four people who knew it where it even was. As it stands, you are the prime suspect."

* * *

><p>Keeping something a secret is the best way to make sure it gets spread around. Moze's meeting with Vice Principal Crubbs was confidential, so by third period everyone knew she was a dirty, filthy thief.<p>

Another thing that spreads easily is hatred. Hate is infectious, and the more people who have it, is the faster it spreads.

Dozens of students from every grade in the school had contributed to the fund raiser. Countless man hours had been spent making the items that were sold. They had all shouldered the burden together believing that they were working towards a better wood shop that everyone could benefit from. Jennifer Mosely, in her greed and selfishness, had snatched that away from them at the finish line. Their resentment festered and grew. Their friends that didn't take wood shop became bitter on their behalf. The hate was spreading.

* * *

><p>Moze had her head inside her locker. She wasn't looking for anything, she was just hiding from a thousand angry stares.<p>

"They don't all hate you." said the recycling can in the corner. "They're just a little mad that they've had a set back. You're just a convenient outlet for their disappointment. This will all blow over soon."

"Thank you, Cookie." she said. "And thank you for having enough confidence in my innocence that you'd speak to me in public without a disguise." she added, laying on the sarcasm.

"Just because you're having a bad day," defended Cookie from the recycling can, "doesn't mean I have to commit social suicide."

As Moze reached around inside her locker for something offensive to throw in the traitorous recycling bin, her phone went off. When she checked it, it was a text message from Faymen.

**Faymen: **_Can't believe what everyone is saying. Hope you're doing all right._

Well, that was nice of him. Not as nice as coming to support her in person, but she was in no position to complain.

"Moze." said Ned. He had walked up to her but was keeping a good distance away. "I know you would never steal anything." he said, at an unnecessarily loud volume. "You're a better person than that, you're more involved in the wood shop than anyone else, and anyone who thinks you'd do that is a gormless idiot!"

His voice carried down the hall and literally everyone stopped to stare at him. Quite a few people glared. He did not flinch. Eventually, the hallway contraflow started again and the students hurried on to their next class. Moze gave Ned a smile. In spite of all the awkwardness, he was always there for her.

"Thanks, Ned." she said.

"Are you doing alright?" he asked, now at normal volume.

"Not really, but I guess it'll all blow over soon." she said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Theft exceeding a hundred dollars is charged as a felony." said the recycling can. "The offense is punishable by a minimum of a year in jail."

"Nothing you don't deserve." someone said from behind Ned. More specifically, above Ned.

Moze recognized him. His name was Chad Rolle. He was a seventh grader in wood shop. He had given a coffee table with spectacular buttress work. Ned, who hadn't met him before, was wondering who had taught a rhinoceros to walk and dressed it in Abercrombie and Fitch.

"Everyone knows you took the money, Mosely." Chad said in condemnation.

"Hey!" said Ned, getting in his face. At least, as close as he could get without a stepladder. "Back off!"

They glared at each other. It looked like a David and Goliath redux. Facing down a tiger had redefined his concept of fear, but the fact was he didn't even have any pebbles to throw.

The bell rang. Chad turned away and lumbered off to class.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Cookie was maneuvering down the halls. He had to avoid the high traffic areas. He'd been careful to avoid being seen talking to Moze, but some people still considered him retroactively guilty by association.<p>

His current round about route took him past the Administration Office. As he passed the door, he saw Crubbs inside talking to two uniformed police officers.

Oh, this was bad...

* * *

><p>"Oh, this is bad!" Moze cried.<p>

"Where did you even find a vending machine disguise?" Ned asked Cookie.

"eBay." the vending machine answered.

They were outside the cafeteria. A vending machine was sitting innocuously against the far wall, all though no one could remember it being there a hour ago.

"This can't be happening." Moze said. She was starting to loose her grip and was pacing back and forth. "I'm going to get arrested. And sentenced to life. And die in a prison riot. And -"

"Moze!" Ned grabbed her before she could pace any farther off the deep end. "You didn't do anything! You aren't getting arrested!"

"Technically," said the vending machine, "she could still be arrested, she just couldn't be indited."

Ned turned and gave the machine a good kick. A can dropped down and it gave a groan.

"Ned is right." Moze said, mostly to herself. "I'll just explain everything. They'll see I had nothing to do with -"

A large dark mass went splat against the back of her head. The shock rendered he speechless, and she could do no more than stand there with her mouth hanging open. Went to look at the back of her head to see what it was. Someone had thrown a lump of gristle at the back of her head, probably scraped out of one of the stoves in the kitchen.

Ned looked down the hall and saw Chad with a smug look on his face. The bell rang and lunch let out. As the wave of students swept Chad away, he didn't see Ned charging at him and a vending machine holding him back.

* * *

><p>Ms. Singer was in her classroom, getting all the items ready for the sewing club fund raiser. Taking a leaf from Mr. Chopsaw's book she and her students had made some outfits and accessories to sell. She had just finished folding all the scarves and was holding up a particularly stunning gown to appreciate it. Jerry Crony did good work. The things he could do with tafeta were nothing short of miraculous.<p>

She lowered the gown and Ms. Frizzle appeared form behind it.

"Whoa!" she cried. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I did knock." Ms. Frizzle lied. "Do you have everything in hand for the fund raiser?"

"I think so, yes." said Ms. Singer, looking around her room. "All the items to sell have been up here all week. I brought some display racks from home. I got the cash box from the office this morning. We should be able to hold the fund raiser tonight as planned."

"Good, good." said Ms. Frizzle. She reached over to and picked a scarf of the table. "My this is stunning. How much do you want for it?" she asked.

"Oh, well, I'm not ready set up to sell anything yet." Ms. Singer floundered.

"You must seize every opportunity." said Ms. Frizzle. "I think twenty is fair."

"Oh, well, sure." Ms. Singer agreed.

"Can you break a fifty?" Ms. Frizzle asked, handing her a bill.

"Um, I'll check." said Ms. Singer. She went around behind her desk and pulled a cash box out of one of the drawers. She opened the box to look for a few tens then fainted dead away when she saw what was in the box.

* * *

><p>Moze walked out of the locker room, her hair still damp. Coach Dirga had let her use the showers to get the gristle out of her hair. Most of it was gone, but the smell of charred animal fat still lingered.<p>

She just needed to hold on long enough to get home, climb into bed, and never get up again. She didn't think she could manage one more thing happening today. She felt like she was walking a precipice where one fickle wind could send her crashing down.

She had made it halfway across the gym when she heard him.

"Hey, Mosely!" it was Chad. "You think you're getting off that easily?" he came toward her. She turned to run away. She made it to the door when she heard him roar with pain behind her. Curious as to what could make a juggernaut feel pain, she turned back to see what happened. Her jaw hit the floor at what she saw.

Ned had managed to vault on top of Chad and had a death grip on his head. Chad was clawing at Ned's arms trying to get him off.

It was hardly a fair fight. Chad was bigger than Ned, stronger, more durable, but Chad wasn't anywhere near as pissed off as Ned was.

* * *

><p>Later, Moze was seated in the Administration Office. She was keeping a blank expression on her face, and staring straight ahead. Ned sat on the other end of the bench, holding a cold compress to his black eye and a paper towel to his busted lip. Despite how bad Ned was, he was more worried about Moze. The calm, collected look was a sure sign that the damn was about to burst. Vice Principal Crubbs came striding out of his office. He gave them both a hard look.<p>

"You two want to explain why Chad Rolle is unconscious in the nurses office?" he asked.

Moze took a deep breath, opened her mouth to begin, and burst out in tears. As she buried her face in her hands, Ned abandoned his ice pack and bandage and slid across the bench. He pulled her face into his chest and held her while she let it all out.

Crubbs continued in spite of this outburst.

"Look, Mosely. You aren't making a very good case for yourself." he said. "You're under suspicion of grand theft and getting involved in fights on the same day isn't going to help -"

"Stop!" yelled Ms. Singer, as she ran into the office, cash box in hand. "I stole the money!"

Hearing that, Moze shoved Ned off of her and lunged at Ms. Singers throat.

"YOU MALICIOUS WITCH!" she screamed as Crubbs held her back. She was very determined to replace her old felony with a new one.

"Let me explain!" said Ms. Singer as she hid behind Ms. Frizzle, who had just walked in. "I came down here this morning to get a cash box for our fund raiser. I picked up the one with the money in it by accident. I'm so sorry!"

"Well, no lasting harm was done." said Ms. Frizzle. "We have the money back, everything was cleared up, and we can go back to business as usual. Right, Jennifer?"

"I'M GONNA RIP YOUR SPINE OUT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH!" Moze shouted.

"Let's go see the nurse about a sedative, why don't we?" said Ms. Frizzle and she hefted Moze over her shoulder and walked out.

* * *

><p>Moze was flopped down on Ned's couch. By the time they got home, she was dead on her feet and couldn't find her keys. Ned let her stay there until her mother came home or if she ever found the strength to move. The day had been physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. She didn't think moving would be a good idea for the rest of this week.<p>

She felt some approach and opened her eyes. Ned was standing there, holding a plate of Angel Food Cake with strawberries.

"I thought you could use a pick-me-up." he said, setting the dish down on the coffee table.

Her craving for sugar overpowered her exhaustion and she sat up and inhaled the dessert.

"Thank you." she said.

"It's nothing." said Ned "I hadn't made anything in a while and I wanted to -"

"No." interrupted Moze. "I mean, thank you, for everything."

Ned sat down next to her.

"If it was me being harassed like that," he said, "you would have stood by me. And beaten up more people."

Moze gave a small laugh. Ned reached out to her and held her in a hug. The two leaned back into the sofa and Moze made herself comfortable on Ned's chest.

"Moze?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Can we be friends again?" he asked.

She knew there were some things she hadn't figured out yet. On the other hand, those could wait 'till tomorrow. She could put them off for whole weeks if she wanted. Ned wasn't going anywhere.

"Sure." she said, and they both fell asleep on the couch.


	9. Love

**Chapter 9: Love**

"_I am the hope that greets the dawn. I am the truth that rights the wrong. I am the joy of the redeemed. I am the reason children sing."_

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle arrived at James K. Polk middle school early in the morning. In the short period before any students arrived, she could go over her lesson plans, grade projects, and plan for other classes. Mornings were the deep breath before you charged into battle.<p>

She was not worried about what this week would bring, however. Ever since the fiasco with the missing wood shop money had been cleared up last week, the school was enjoying a lasting peace. The students were collectively ashamed for having persecuted the innocent Jennifer Mosely, and were trying to make up for their bad behavior by being more responsible than usual. There hadn't been so much as an instance of name calling. This revelation was in addition to the bullying deficit that had started after Billy Loomer's accident which had left him a more calm and gentle person.

Ms. Frizzle unlocked her classroom and was greeted by the sight of Jennifer Mosely sitting in her usual seat at the front of the room. This was very odd, since she didn't usual sit there for another hour.

"Jennifer? How did you get in here?" Ms. Frizzle asked.

"I need tips." Moze said, ignoring the question.

"What on?" asked Ms. Frizzle, switching gears.

"It's Ned." Moze said, launching into an explanation. "We went back to being friends after the money was found. I mean, not that we weren't friends, but...well, he kissed me. Which wasn't bad, but then I kissed him. That wasn't bad either, but I didn't know where we stood. We've been friends forever, and I'm dating Faymen, but I think I like Ned."

She stopped to take a breath. Ms. Frizzle could see that she'd wanted to talk to someone about this for a while.

"I don't know if I like him like that, I think I do, but what if I don't. This could ruin our friendship if we started dating and it didn't work out. And anyway I'm dating Faymen, and I like him to, but now I don't know if I like him as much. And I don't even know if Ned even likes me. I felt fireworks when we kissed, but what if he just felt like he was kissing his mother!"

Her whole body sagged as she finished. Ms. Frizzle put a comforting hand on Moze's head.

"You don't need tips." Ms. Frizzle said. Moze looked up at her inquisitively.

"You need answers." said Ms. Frizzle, and she pointed to her touch screen wall.

When Mose looked at it, there were four lines of text on it that hadn't been there before.

They read: 1) Do I like Ned Bigby? 2) Does Ned Bigby like me? 3) Would it be better for Ned and me to stay friends? 4) Do I like Faymen or Ned more?

"Luckily," said Ms. Frizzle, "these are all simple questions. Each question has only two possible answers. It's easier than multiple choice."

"But I still don't know." said Moze.

"Don't worry, Jennifer." said Ms. Frizzle. "You don't have to know the answers. There are test for these things."

* * *

><p>Ms. Frizzle pushed a cart down the hall. The cart was carrying a machine that looked like a dentists chair with several satellite dishes welded about the headrest.<p>

As she passed by the library, a book on marriage counseling flew past her head. She looked into the library to see Ned Bigby amid a stack of books on relationship advice. He looked up and saw her.

"The library still doesn't have any answers." he said.

"What's your question?" Ms. Frizzle asked, sitting down next to him.

He looked around the library to see if anyone was within hearing distance, then he leaned closer to Ms. Frizzle for good measure.

"I think I like Moze." he said.

"Really? What tipped you off?" Ms. Frizzle asked. "Was it the fact that you seem to keep kissing? Or was it when you faced down the tiger rather than let her get eaten?"

"She's really important to me," Ned continued, "but I don't know if I like her like that. What if I tell her I like her and she doesn't feel the same way? Our friendship would be over! Anyway, she's going out with Faymen. I don't think I couldmpherph"

Ms. Frizzle shoved a copy of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus in his mouth to stop him from building up a full head of steam and charging off the edge.

"The sky isn't falling chicken little." she said. "You need to break down your big problem into smaller ones." she pulled his note pad over to her and started writing.

"One," she said while writing, "you are not sure how you feel about Jennifer. Two, You do not know how Jennifer feels about you. Three, You are worried something might happen to ruin your friendship. Four, Jennifer is dating Faymen Phorchin."

Ned looked over the list.

"Yeah," he said, "that covers everything."

"Good." said Ms. Frizzle. "Now, we solve the little problems one at a time. Now, you can't really do anything about what Jennifer feels or whom she is dating. So, let's focus on items One and Three."

"Okay," said Ned, relieved that half the issues were gone already.

"Item Three is the easiest." Ms. Frizzle went on. "You two have been friends as long as you've been alive. Unless one of you murders the other's family or something equally terrible, that probably won't change. If it happened that Jennifer said she liked you and you just wanted to be friends you wouldn't abandon her would you?"

"No." said Ned with the tone of someone who had just been asked if planet Earth was flat. (In case you were wondering: the Earth is not flat. There are some planets that are flat. Some of them are even carried on the backs of four elephants riding a giant sea turtle, but Earth is not that planet.)

"So, there's no reason to assume she would do any differently." said Ms. Frizzle. "Item One, unfortunately has no clear answer, however it doesn't really need one. The fact that you've overlooked in your panic is that Jennifer isn't going anywhere. She isn't eloping with Faymen and running away to Brazil. She isn't dying from flesh eating protozoa. She will be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that."

"I don't follow." said Ned.

"You have time." clarified Ms. Frizzle. "You don't have to decide how you feel right now. Just let go of it, and focus on other things. And some day, down the road, without having given it any thought, and without worrying yourself ragged over it, you're going to wake up and realize 'Ah, hah! That's what I feel.'"

"Seriously?" asked Ned.

"Yep." said Ms. Frizzle. "That's how it works. One day you'll be completely confused about something and the next day it will be as obvious as fire being hot."

She let this sink in for a minute. It was always a revelation to learn that parts of you were making decisions while the rest of you went on uninformed. You always think you're an individual, but you're actually an entire committee.

"When you are confused about anything," Ms. Frizzle continued, "always stick to the facts. Facts can't lie. They can't fail. You hit confusion with the facts and it can't get back up again. And the fact is, even if you don' know how you feel about Jennifer, you definitely care about her."

"Of course." said Ned.

"If you care about her, you'll make whatever decision will maximize her happiness." said Ms. Frizzle.

"And that means not making her as confused as I am by bringing this up." said Ned. "And she's happy with Faymen so I shouldn't do anything to mess that up."

"You're a good friend, Ned." said Ms. Frizzle, getting up and tousling his hair. "You're a real firework."

She walked out of the library with evil glint in her eye. Let the tests begin.

* * *

><p>"This," Ms. Frizzle told Moze, "is a portable PET scanner."<p>

They were in Ms. Frizzle's empty classroom. The PET scanner was plugged in against the far wall, looking intimidating.

"What are we doing with it?" Moze asked in apprehension.

"We are going to determine empirically if you like Ned." said Ms. Frizzle. "To that end, we are going to hook you up the scanner and show you a series of pictures."

Once Moze was strapped in, Ms. Frizzle swiveled the chair to face the touch screen wall. A photo of her mother filled up the wall. after a few seconds, it was replaced by a kitten. Then, a waterfall. She kept watching the seemingly random images for the next few minutes. Some were of cute animals. Some of them were of battlefields. Some where of her friends. Some were of her family. One was of Ms. Frizzle floating in Outer Space.

"And done." said Ms. Frizzle, unbuckling her from the chair.

"What was that supposed to do?" asked Moze, nonplussed.

"Good question." said Ms. Frizzle. "Jennifer Ann Mosely," she typed a command into her wall and a picture of a brain appeared. "This is your brain. This is your brain when it sees your mother." The brain on the screen started to twinkle with little sparks. "The PET scan allows us to see how your brain is thinking. These images," multiple pictures of her brain appeared on screen at varying levels of activity. "were taken when I showed you a specific picture."

Moze gawked at the wall. Looking at someone's thoughts couldn't possibly be legal.

"These images of your brain," Ms. Frizzle continued, pulling new images up, "were taken when you saw a picture of Ned."

Her brain was lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Compare them with these images of when you just saw Cookie." said Ms. Frizzle, bring the new images along side the other ones.

Cookie wasn't even close.

"And here's Faymen." said Ms. Frizzle. "Your brain on Faymen is indistinguishable from your brain on Ned. So, it is resolved: you like Ned as more than a friend. Also, this scan here indicates that you think Billy Loomer is cute."

Moze hung her head, embarrassed.

"Delete these. Now!" said Moze.

* * *

><p>"...and that is why it is better if Moze and I just stay friends." Ned finished. He had been telling Cookie about his resolution.<p>

"I thought the paradigm was for people to make fools of themselves for love?" asked Cookie.

"That fate is for people who don't have Ms. Frizzle as a teacher." said Ned.

As they approached the corner, they heard loud guffawing from around the bend.

"Dude, she really did it?" someone said. It sounded like Michael Corner from his Algebra class.

"Yes, she did." said Faymen.

Ned flattened himself against the wall, pulling Cookie with him.

"What -" Cookie started.

"Hush." said Ned. He strained to hear what was being said.

"You've been trying go get her to do that for ages, haven't you?" said Michael.

"Yes, she has been very resistant." said Faymen.

"When?" said Michael.

"She finally rolled over last night." said Faymen.

"Ned," whispered Cookie, "your grip is fracturing my Radius."

"Will she do it again?" Michael asked.

"Every time I ask." said Faymen.

"I can't feel my fingers." Cookie whined.

"That's great, Faymen." they heard Claire Sawyer say. "I didn't think you'd ever teach your dog to roll over. Can you teach her to beg next?"

"Oh, I was way off." said Ned.

* * *

><p>"This next test," said Ms. Frizzle, "will evaluate if Ned is boyfriend material or if you should just keep him in the friend pile."<p>

"I don't really see how all this ties together." said Moze, as she looked over the gym.

The gym floor was littered every piece of sports equipment ever invented. There were croquet mallets, volleyballs, bowling balls, shuttle cocks, tennis rackets, foot balls, pool ques, and there was a sumo wrestler sitting near the bleachers.

"I could explain," said Ms. Frizzle, "but I'll just show you."

The doors of the gym opened and the fourth period gym class came in.

"Okay, everyone!" called Ms. Frizzle. "I'm taking over this class. Coach Dirga came down with a nasty case of sudden chronic neck pain and had to be rushed away for an emergency spa treatment. We're going to divide up into five teams."

A while later, Moze was on a team with Faymen, Ned, Cookie, and Loomer. They were wearing blue jerseys with the words 'Team Jerboa' stitched on the front.

"What happened to your arm?" Moze asked Cookie, indicating the sling he had his left arm in.

"It got crushed by the power of love." he answered cryptically.

"Eh?" asked Moze.

"Alright!" shouted Ms. Frizzle. "As you can see," she indicated the equipment, "the game is Calvinball. Any questions?"

"What are the rules?" asked Seth Powers, who was wearing a red jersey with 'Team Tapir' stitched on it.

"It's pretty simple." said Ms. Frizzle. "You make it up as you go. Begin!"

* * *

><p>On the bleachers,Martin Qwerly and Scoop were giving a running commentary for the school podcast.<p>

"Hello folks! I'm Martin Qwerly."

"And I'm Scoop! Were coming to you today from Ms. Frizzle's first gym class, where five teams are competing simultaneously for the Calvinball Cup."

"Today we have optimum conditions for a great Calvinball match: We're inside, the lights are on, and the floor isn't wet."

"The game has begun, and Loomer of Team Jerboa is going full speed from right out of the gate. He's running a soccer ball down the northwest quadrangle of the Vortex Zone. Lisa Mytner of Team Koala is trying to block him. He dodges past her and slips between Josh and Kyle. He's going for the goal, but Missy just pushed the sumo wrestler in front of him. He adjust his position and he kicks! It bounces off the Pillar of Despair to where Faymen Phorchin is waiting in front of Team Boojum's goal and FAYMEN SINKS THE GOAL!"

"Meanwhile, in the Osmosis Zone, Missy and Bianca of Team Tapeworm are pelting Ned and Moze of Team Jerboa with a volley of shuttle cocks. Ned and Moze are making a break for the safety of the western strip of the Melancholy Zone. Missy is in hot pursuit, but she needs to reload and Moze blitzes her while she's unarmed and, yes, she's challenged Missy to sudden-death Rock/Paper/Scissors. There building up to it and...Moze wins with Scissors!"

"In the Prestidigitation Zone, Cookie is locked in a keep away game, being taunted by Zack of Team Tapir and Cody of Team Koala. But Loomer catches Cody off guard coming in from southern most spiral of the Gravity Zone. Loomer has tackled Cody to the ground and the ball is out of play. Cookie is running after it with Zack hot on his tail, and Cookie gets it!"

"In the Perpetual Suffering Zone, Ned and Coconut Head of Team Boojum are locked in a vicious staring contest... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … and … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … Ned Wins! Finally."

"In the Caustic Zone Buzz Rodriguez of Team Boojum and Jerry Crony of Team Tapeworm are having an open and honest discussion about their feelings. And I think there might be … yes, I think … yes! There's hugging!"

* * *

><p>An hour of this silliness past and Ms. Frizzle called game over. The players were gathered around her, waiting to hear the final score.<p>

"I've tallied up all the points!" said Ms. Frizzle. "Team Jerboa: 42 points. Team Koala: 'Q'. Team Tapir: 'Jello Cake'. Team Tapeworm: 'H2SO4'. And for Team Boojum: They handed me three marbles and a live chicken."

The chicken clucked quietly as the class looked on confused.

"Team Boojum Wins!" declared Ms. Frizzle.

The players in brown jerseys went wild in celebration.

* * *

><p>"Ok," said Moze as she and Ms. Frizzle got back to Room #102, "what was the point of that?"<p>

Ms. Frizzle waved a hand at the touch screen wall. Dozens of moving pictures appeared on the screen. When Moze stopped to examine them, she realized they were video images of the Calvinball game she was just in.

"I planted cameras all over the gym to review what happened and extract the raw data." said Ms. Frizzle.

"What did you find?" asked Moze.

"Well, for one thing, Coconut Head can take down a sumo wrestler using a tennis racket." said Ms. Frizzle. "But as far as Ned is concerned, please view these videos."

A few of the video files where brought moved to the area of the screen in front of Moze. They were the plays where she and Ned were working together.

"When ever Ned moved," Ms. Frizzle explained, "it was in reference to your movement, like two orbiting planets. He made sure to keep your blind spots covered, and he was right there to catch you when you slipped on that banana peel."

"In contrast," said Ms. Frizzle bring up a different video file, "Faymen used you as a meat shield when Zack and Tyler were barraging you with dodge balls."

"Ah." said Moze. She was going to have a word with him about that later. Just one word in fact: '_slap!_'

"Ned is attentive to your needs and supportive to your actions." summarized Ms. Frizzle. "So, it is resolved: Ned is boyfriend material."

* * *

><p>"... and that's why it's better for Moze and me to stay friends." Ned finished.<p>

"Interesting." said Gordy from his sofa. "I was under the impression the two guys had to duke it out for the fair maiden's hand."

"That's just archaic." said Ned.

"Weren't Moze and Missy fighting over _you _a few weeks ago?" asked Gordy.

"That's totally different." said Ned.

"How?" asked Gordy.

"Because I said so." answered Ned.

Before Gordy could point out the flaw in his logic, they heard two people talking outside the supply closet door.

"Dude, you got it!" said a voice that sounded like Tyler Philmore from Ned's Science class.

"Yes, my cousins in Columbia sent it." said a voice that Ned recognized as Faymen.

"Nice, I heard this stuff will have you bouncing off the ceiling." said Tyler.

"That and much more." said Faymen.

"Isn't this illegal?" asked Tyler.

"I won't tell if you won't." said Faymen. "Don't take it all, some is for Jennifer."

Ned already had his cell phone out. 9 - 1 -

"Why would they make it illegal to mail Columbian cocoa beans to the United States?" Tyler asked. "They seem so harmless."

"It's a quality control policy." said Faymen. "Only major growers are allowed to export it."

Inside the closet, Ned scowled at the door and shut his phone while Gordy muffled his laughter with a pillow.

* * *

><p>Moze looked at the little box Ms. Frizzle had given her. It was about the size of a business card and one side had a tiny speaker on it.<p>

"What does this do?" Moze asked.

"This test," said Ms. Frizzle, looking furtively out the kitchen door into the cafeteria, "will tell us if Ned likes you."

"Couldn't we just hook him up to the PET scanner?" Moze asked.

"This method is more cost effective, but we have to do it while lunch is in session." said Ms. Frizzle. "Put the box in your pants pocket, grab a lunch, and sit next to Ned, and I mean right next to him. He's in his usual seat."

Moze slipped the box into her back pocket and joined the lunch line. As Rose, the lunch lady, served her chili, she wondered what the box did. It probably recorded the electromagnetic waves he was emanating or took pheromone levels.

"Hi, Ned." she said casually as she sat down next to him.

"Hi." he said in a dead voice.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "You look a little harassed."

"Nothing desert can't fix." he replied. "All they have is rice pudding, though."

They launched into a conversation about who in their right mind would make a desert out of such a bland grain.

Ms. Frizzle stood behind the counter, looking out across the sea of students. She decided the circumstances were just right and pulled out a remote control. It had only one button on it. It was a large red one, clearly conveying that you should think twice before pushing it. She pondered the morality of this test for a second. It was exceptionally accurate, but the cost was terrible. She took a deep breath, said a prayer for forgiveness, and pushed the button.

The box in Moze's pocket blared out the loudest farting noise ever heard. Elephants would get together and make fun of how loud that was. Moze felt the color drain from her face and all of her limbs. The cafeteria went dead quiet and every head swiveled to face her general direction.

Across from her, Faymen was wearing an expression that could only be described as 'blown away'.

"Sorry!" said Ned. Moze's head whipped around to face him. His eyes were clenched shut, like a man who didn't want to watch as a firing squad was getting ready to shoot.

"I had too much chili!" Ned finished.

Then, Moze realized what was going on. He was putting his head on the chopping block and saving her from utter humiliation.

The cafeteria burst out in raucous laughter. Ned slid down until he was under the table.

Behind the cafeteria counter, Lunch Lady Rose and Ms. Frizzle were watching him.

"Now, that's love." said Rose.

"Yes," said Ms. Frizzle, "yes it is."

* * *

><p>Ned was sitting in the air ducts above the art classroom. This was the only place in the school where he wouldn't be laughed at. When he found who called Guinness World Records he was going to feed them their own face. He didn't even know there was a category for loudest evacuation.<p>

This was the worst day ever. He'd worried himself into a harassed state because Faymen couldn't specify he was talking about something innocuous at the beginning of a conversation. He'd become a pariah because he covered for someone else's girlfriend. On top of everything else, His feelings for Moze, which were no more clearer, kept interrupting his waking thoughts. When Ms. Frizzle told him that he should focus on everything else she hadn't mentioned that the topic he was trying to avoid would be barging into his mind at every opportunity.

It was understandable he got worked up over Faymen. He wanted Moze to be happy. Right now, that meant Faymen, but if Faymen was doing things that were untoward Moze would suffer collateral damage. He didn't want to be worried about whether or not she had a good boyfriend. He wanted to be a good boyfriend for her. He didn't want to worry whether her special someone was making her happy or sad. He wanted to be the one to make her happy. He wanted to be the pair of arms she ran to when things got bad. He wanted it all. Talking to her all night. Slow dancing at parties. Giving her heart shaped candies on Valentines day. The whole damn works.

Ah, yes. This must be the 'wake up' Ms. Frizzle was talking about. It seemed the next logical step was to defeat Faymen in a duel and ride off into the sunset with Moze.

However, Faymen was not a bad guy, Moze was happy with the way things were, it would be unfair to them to cause discord because of his own problems, and he didn't even have a horse to ride off on.

So, it was resolved. If it ain't broke don't fix it.

* * *

><p>Moze was sitting in her usual desk in Ms. Frizzle's empty classroom. She was giving Ms. Frizzle a look that could make a lion back up.<p>

"Well," said Ms. Frizzle, unfazed by the glare, "a good days worth of scientific inquiry done and we only have one test left."

"What is it this time?" Moze asked bitterly. "Are you going to test if I'm flammable?"

"No. This test will tell us if you would prefer Ned or Faymen." said Ms. Frizzle.

"You're going to set them both on fire and see which one I save first, aren't you?" asked Moze.

"Normally, yes." admitted Ms. Frizzle. "However, we will also need a test that tells Ned if he prefers you over Suzie."

"Why?" Moze asked, confused.

The door to the classroom opened and someone knocked.

"Excuse me." a voice said. "I was told to come here. Jennifer?"

Moze whipped her head around to the door.

"Suzie Crabgrass?" Moze cried in shock.

Suzie ran to the front of the room as Moze got up and she hugged her.

"I'm so glad to see you again!" Suzie said. "My dad got a job in town, so I can come back to school here!"

"Amazing." said Moze, very glad that Suzie couldn't see the face she was making.

Another voice came from the door.

"You wanted to see me Ms – Suzie?" said Ned.

"Ned!" Suzie cried happily.

She ran over and hugged him. He hugged her back, but his expression remained in shock mode.

"Now that you're all here," said Ms. Frizzle, "I have some exciting news to share with you, that I think you'll love."

The three turned to her. She drew herself up for effect.

"We're going on a field trip."


	10. Resolution

**Chapter 10: Resolution**

_"There are more than seven billion people in the world. Out of those 7,000,000,000, you have to find the 1 that's right for you."_

* * *

><p>This was a sign. Ned was sure of that. Suzie returning was a sign that he had done the right thing by staying friends with Moze. If he had told her he liked her at any time, for any reason, Suzie returning would have caused a fiasco.<p>

He could just imagine it: Moze awkwardly stammering a hasty apology that she just wanted to be friends. Suzie crying and rending her garments, calling him a betrayer. Faymen riding in on a white horse, sweeping Moze off her feet, and laughing maniacally at Ned for thinking he was any match for the tall, dark, Brazilian import. Planet Earth being knocked off course by a giant meteor and hurling into the sun.

That might be a bit of a worst case scenario, but he was glad he avoided it all the same.

Still, as Suzie chatted at him happily from her seat beside him on the bus, his eyes kept flitting over to where Moze and Faymen were sitting across the aisle, and he wondered: 'Would she have picked me?'

* * *

><p>"This is definitely a sign." said Moze to Ms. Frizzle. The buses had finally arrived at their destination and everyone was spilling out and stretching their legs after the two-hour ride.<p>

"With Suzie back, Ned has a girlfriend. I have Faymen. Everyone has someone. We can all be happy." Moze continued.

"Of course'" said Ms. Frizzle. "Although, you could just as easily be paired with Ned and Suzie can have Faymen." She added coyly.

Moze glared at her, annoyed.

"My point," Moze said, "is that everyone is happy. There's no need to upset the applecart. We don't need to run the other test."

"Really?" asked Ms. Frizzle. "You're in no way interested in knowing if you and Ned are truly, madly, and/or deeply in love? Destined to ride off into the sunset and forever be happy? Getting heart shaped candies on…" she trailed off at this point. Her teasing expression replaced with one of worry. She looked around, as if in response to a sound Moze didn't hear.

Before Moze could ask what was making her act stranger than usual, Vice Principal Crubbs addressed the crowd. He was standing on a bench overlooking the students and speaking through a megaphone. For some reason, the megaphone was wearing sunglasses.

"Good morning students!" he shouted. "Welcome to the World Showcase." He gestured broadly to the giant gate behind him.

The gate was a huge archway, big enough to accommodate a passenger plane. It was decorated by metal flags of all the nations of the world: the Union Jack (Britain), the Star Spangled Banner (America), The Rising Sun (Japan), a Train Racing an Octopus (The Greater Andaman Islands), and hundreds more. At the top of the arch, in bronze letters as tall as a grown man, were the words 'World Showcase'.

"For those of you who don't know," Crubbs continued, "This is a theme park. It's divided up into different enclosures, one for each major nation in the world. Each enclosure features life size buildings and architecture endemic to the culture. The Park has hired people from the actual countries to work in the enclosures. The park literally has miles worth of exhibits."

"Now, this is an educational field trip," Crubbs said. "So, while you're having fun, learn something, or this whole thing was a wash. And since this is a school trip, the school rules still apply: no fighting, no shouting, don't break anything, or you're fired."

After his inspirational speech, everyone surged forward through the archway. As Ms. Frizzle made her way into the park, she would look around every so often, keeping an eye out for a red overcoat.

* * *

><p>"This is incredible!" said Cookie, looking down from the railing into the Spree River. "They built a river!"<p>

They were in the German Enclosure. The park had replicated the city of Berlin. Ned wasn't as vocal as Cookie, but he was just as impressed. They had made everything look so real: the buildings looked like life sized buildings, the cobblestones looked like they'd been weathered by years of being trodden on, and they had built an actual flowing river down the middle of it. Ned wondered if when they went to the Jamaican Enclosure they'd see an ocean.

Their group was wondering which enclosures they were going to visit first. A tour guide passed them with her group.

"Germany is the birthplace of the printing press, as invented by Johannes Gutenberg," said the Guide. "It made possible the widespread dissemination of knowledge. A book that would have taken months to hand copy could now be printed in minutes."

"I definitely want to visit the Thai enclosure," said Suzie, looking over the park map. "These temples are so ornate. What their culture can do with spires is inspiring."

"I'd like to see the Venetian enclosure," Said Loomer. "I always thought it was cool that they didn't have streets, just canals."

"Which one do you want to see, Lisa?" asked Cookie. She didn't answer, most likely because she couldn't hear him over the sound of the horde of boys that was surrounding her.

"Jennifer," said Faymen, "I want to take you to see the Brazilian Enclosure. They have a replica of the Great Theater of Manaus."

"I want to know what's bothering Ms. Frizzle," said Ned.

At this declaration, they all turned to see where he was looking. Ms. Frizzle was under the Brandenburg Gate, walking in circles around one of the pillars. By wordless agreement, they all walked over to where their teacher was apparently going crazy. Lisa's posse hung back out of a healthy fear for a person of an unknown mental state.

"Ms. Frizzle?" said Ned cautiously.

She stopped her perambulating and turned to him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She chewed her bottom lip, and tugged at one of her explosive red curls, then she answered.

"Since we arrived here I've been feeling there's trouble afoot," she said.

"Like there's something rotten in the Denmark Enclosure?" asked Cookie.

Ms. Frizzle's punishment for his bad pun was preempted by a building exploding.

For Ned, everything seemed to move slowly, as if he was watching a movie where all his actions were scripted out ahead of time being played out in slow motion. The girls all hit the deck, then the boys dogpiled on top of them to form a meat shield. From his position on top of Moze, Ned could see Ms. Frizzle standing between them and now smoking building. Taking stock of the situation, Ned saw that the roof of one of the buildings had been blown off, there was a lot of debris flying everywhere and clouds of smoke, but at least the city wasn't on fire and people weren't being crushed by falling rock. He looked around at his friends. Cookie was plastered over Lisa. He and Faymen were perched on Moze. Loomer was covering Suzie, who looked horrified at the explosion, annoyed that her boyfriend was heroically defending another girl, with undertones of shock that she was being protected from further harm by her ex.

The roof of the building seemed to be blossoming. Something large, red, and silk was emerging from the ruined structure: a hot air balloon. The group pulled themselves up to get a better look and possibly run away if necessary.

The Balloon ascended slowly above the park, which is really the only speed a hot air balloon can go. In the basket of the Balloon was a lady. She had a large red hat and a red overcoat. She was too far away to see clearly, but Ned imagined she had a smug expression on her face. All of a sudden she jerked down suddenly because something had grabbed onto her red scarf that was trailing over the side of the balloons basket.

"Ms. Frizzle!" Ned and the others cried out. Ms. Frizzle had, in a short amount of time, managed to scale the smoldering building, make a jump of a narrow ledge, and snatch the villainess's scarf. And she did it all in a skirt and two-inch heels.

The lady in red flailed as her scarf choked her. Ms. Frizzle climbed higher and higher towards the basket. The lady in red finally looked over the basket rim to see what was trying to murder her and saw the ascending school teacher. From somewhere within the basket she pulled something out. At first Ned though it was a broom stick, which didn't make sense, but as she aimed and threw it, he knew it was a spear, which made more sense, and was also very bad.

Ms. Frizzle saw the spear before it was launched and swung out of the way. This crucial maneuver proved to be too much for the stylish scarf, which came disentangled from its owner and sent Ms. Frizzle falling to the unforgiving if highly authentic pavement.

Without any clear plan in mind, Ned ran toward where her trajectory intersected with solid ground. All the other guys had the same idea and they converged on the point to catch her. They didn't manage to catch her, but they did succeed in breaking her fall.

She picked herself up her impromptu mattress of groaning students and shook her fist at the escaping balloonist.

"Curse you, Carmen Sandiego!" she cried.

Carmen Sandiego waved at her from the balloon basket. "Boa Sorte!" she yelled down.

"Did you say 'Carmen Sandiego'?" asked Lisa. She and the other girls were trying to pull the crushed boys to their feet.

"Who's Carmen Sandiego?" gasped out Loomer, whose lungs had been forcibly evacuated.

"She's the world's greatest thief!" said Lisa. "The greatest thief in History!"

"The fiend who stole Newton's Apple," said Suzie.

"That's a thing?" asked Loomer.

"The filcher who kidnapped the Primogeniture of Luxembourg," said Moze.

"The who of where?" asked Ned.

"The mastermind who stole the tea from China," said Lisa.

"All of it?" asked Faymen.

"All of it!" affirmed Lisa.

"The felon who purloined the shores of Patagonia." said Cookie.

"That" started Ned, "cannot possibly -."

"Enough!" snapped Ms. Frizzle. "What would she be doing in the World Showcase?" she resumed pacing in circles, trying to chase a good idea. "Everything here is a replica. There's nothing here worth stealing." she gestured to the damaged building, now revealed to be a wire frame with a plaster shell.

At this point, a woman came stumbling out of the wreckage, coughing, covered in ash, clothes in tatters, and carrying a large, leathery rectangle in one hand. She was waving it around. This must have meant something to Ms. Frizzle, who ran up to her and snatched the object from the woman's grasp. Ms. Frizzle was so focused on whatever it was that she didn't give the woman a second glance when she collapsed.

Moze, not seeing the value in the object when levied against human life, ran up to the fainted woman. She tried to picture her as Resuci-Larry.

"Ned!" she yelled. "I need a bandage."

He checked his pockets. "I don't have a - ." There was a ripping sound and he found himself with one less sleeve. "You're welcome," he said, as Moze wound the fabric around the woman's arm.

"I know what this is!" declared Ms. Frizzle, gazing at the object in horror. Now that Ned was closer, he saw it was a ripped off book cover. "That fiend has stolen The Book of Love!"

They looked at her blankly; uncomprehending of the impending horror that concerned Ms. Frizzle. Moze didn't know a lot about evil plots, but if the jumping off point was 'Stealing The Book of Love' it seemed fairly innocuous.

"That _cannot _be a thing." said Loomer.

"That thing is a thing!" said Ms. Frizzle. "And I assure you, a plot involving The Book of Love is anything but innocuous!"

"But love is the source of kindness, compassion, and mercy." said Lisa. "It's a force for good."

"Tell that to Romeo and Juliet." said Ms. Frizzle.

"Oh, that's right." said Lisa. "Romeo died, Juliet died, Mercutio died, Paris died, Tybalt died…"

"Did anyone even live through that play?" asked Suzie.

"I think the monk was alive at the end," said Ned.

"Focus!" said Moze. "What is the Book of Love?"

"The Book of Love was written very long ago," said Ms. Frizzle, "in the days of cuneiform and stone tablets. It was compiled as part of an initiative by ancient scholars to understand love."

"Aww," said the girls.

"Why haven't we ever heard of it?" asked Lisa.

"Because, as an instruction manual and comprehensive explanation, the book was a complete failure." said Ms. Frizzle. "Those ancient ones bit off more than they could chew. It was the days when fire was cutting-edge technology. And all of the authors were men." She scoffed.

"No wonder it bombed," said Suzie.

"Since then, the book has been passed down from generation to generation." continued Ms. Frizzle. "It has been added to and improved by hundreds of authors over thousands of years. Its contributors span every era of human history and ever culture to have ever existed. Working tirelessly to perfect their understanding of Love."

"Um, about the success of this," asked Ned. "Was there any?"

"Well, some of the formulas they've come up with are pretty accurate," said Ms. Frizzle.

"Like, an algebraic formula?" asked Ned. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, Dr. Xavier did that for me and Faymen," said Moze.

"Really?" said Ned. "What did it say?"

"You!" said Ms. Frizzle, directing her comment at the woman passed out in the rubble. She pulled up the woman by her collar. "Why is the Book of Love in the World Showcase!? It's supposed to be under heavy guard in the real Berlin!"

"The ICL brought it here." the terrified woman said in a thick German accent.

"Who?" asked Loomer.

"The International Committee on Love," guessed Suzie.

"Now, that _really_ cannot be a thing," said Loomer.

"The book was in total disarray," the woman continued. "There were chapters in different languages; chapters in dead languages; some chapters were just pictures. The music had no tempo notation."

"It has music in it?" asked Moze.

"What were the pictures of?" asked Loomer, grinning mischievously.

"The formulas weren't even in metric," the lady continued.

"What are these formulas?" asked Ned. "I mean, if I hypothetically wanted to test -."

"No test!" said Moze.

"The World Showcase has every language and culture represented," the lady continued. "This is the one place we could translate the entire text into a single language, gain cultural insights into the ancient romantic legends, and finally arrange the book into a cohesive narrative."

"You were translating it into German?" asked Ms. Frizzle quizzically.

"Spanish."

"Alright," Ms. Frizzle dropped the poor woman again and resumed pacing. "Carmen Sandiego has stolen The Book of Love. But why? Who would buy it?"

"An online dating site?" supplied Ned.

"The Splinter Group of Oprah's Book Club?" offered Suzie.

"We can just catch her and ask." said Cookie. "Her getaway vehicle is a bright red hot air balloon going at 4 miles an hour in broad daylight. We could catch her with a golf cart and a pair of binoculars."

"The ICL is no doubt scrambling their security to follow her cumbersome getaway vehicle." said Ms. Frizzle. "But because of its ostentatiousness, I believe the red balloon to be a red herring. She will abandon the balloon for alternate transportation and will slip away unobserved while everyone is chasing the decoy."

"Then what can we do?" asked Ned.

"Either she's going to give it to an outside buyer," said Ms. Frizzle, "or she's planning to ransom it to the ICL. If it's the ransom, she'll stay close by for convenient pick-up and drop-off. She'll probably take advantage of local experts to translate any passages she's interested in. I wouldn't put it past her to use it for nefarious purposes. If she's still in the park we can find her."

"How do we know she's in the park?" asked Cookie.

"We don't," confessed Ms. Frizzle. "But it's the only scenario where we can do anything."

"I might know where she is," said Ned, examining the scarf that Ms. Frizzle had brought down. "This isn't a scarf, it's part of a Sari: a traditional Indian gown. I recognize it from a report I did for Mr. Pal. She could be in the Indian Enclosure."

"There's more," said Cookie. He was examining the spear that Carmen Sandiego had thrown at Ms. Frizzle. Right now it was sticking out of the chest of an unfortunate erstwhile tourist. "This is a harpoon used by the Aleutian whale hunters. She could be in the Canadian Enclosure."

"She shouted 'Boa Sorte!'" chipped in Faymen. "That's a thing we say in Brazil. She could be in the Brazilian Enclosure."

"Good work, gumshoes!" said Ms. Frizzle, rubbing her hands together. "And the balloon she was in had a smell that reminds me of Jamaica. We have leads, but I can't go to four countries at once."

She pondered her options for a moment, and settled on the one with least regard for safety.

"Right," she said finally. "Ned, Jennifer, Simon, William, Faymen, Lisa, Suzie! As of now I am conscripting you into the Inquisitorial Squad; a club I have just now invented. It provides college credit."

"Yes!" Cookie fist pumped.

"The aims of this club is to find where in the world is Carmen Sandiego," Ms. Frizzle continued. "The minute you find her, call me, and the police, and the national guard. We'll have to split up to follow all the leads. Simon and Lisa, go to Canada!"

"On it." said Lisa. She and Cookie took off.

"Jennifer and Faymen, go to Brazil," said Ms. Frizzle.

As they left, Ned suppressed a shudder. The horrific thought of those two going to the real Brazil danced across his mind. If he had looked after her, he would have seen her cast a worried glance at him. As it was, he missed it. As it happened, Suzie saw.

"Ned, Suzie, William!" said Ms. Frizzle.

"William?" asked Suzie.

"We've been calling Loomer by his first name since the pie-vending machine incident," answered Ned.

"Is that a thing?" asked Suzie.

"You three are going to India!" said Ms. Frizzle. She turned and walked off. "I'm going to Jamaica."

* * *

><p>The Great Theater of Manaus in the Brazilian Enclosure was stunning. The dome of the building was tiled in bright colors. The exterior of the building was interspersed with statues. Moze and Faymen were standing on the portico of the theater looking out over the rest of the enclosure.<p>

"This place is stunning," said Moze, looking at the rainforest in the distance.

"During the rainy season," said Faymen, "my family takes a boat up the river to our house deep within the jungle." He leaned in closer to whisper into her ear. "Maybe this year you can come with us."

Moze was spared making this decision by a scream coming from inside the theater. The both ran inside at top speed.

The theater was empty and poorly lit. Moze and Faymen went down the center aisle, heads constantly swiveling, in case of any red villain in the shadows or hiding in between the seats.

"Up there!" shouted Faymen.

Moze looked where he was pointing. In one of the upper balconies a woman was hanging by her frock over the railing. She was trying to pull herself up and not panic, though failing at both.

After some running around, they found the staircase to the upper balconies and found the one with the dangling woman. A sword was stabbed through the collar of her frock into the railing of the balcony to hold her in place. They both managed to pull her up. Moze looked her over for serious damage while Faymen tried to pull the sword out of the woodwork.

"Who did this to you?" Moze asked.

"It was some maniac in a red overcoat!" cried the lady. She had a single long black braid and copper skin. "She wanted me to translate some book."

"The Book of Love!" said Moze and Faymen.

"That's a thing?" asked the Brazilian woman. "The passage she had me translate was an old legend, the story of Iurupari."

"What's that?" asked Moze.

"It is one of the stories of our people," said the woman. "In the time when there were tribes and no cities, an Amazonian woman fell in love with a warrior from another tribe. Their tribes would not permit them to be together, and, out of loyalty to their tribe, they stayed far away from each other."

"As time passed, their feelings did not lessen, and the pain they felt from being apart grew more onerous. The God of Dreams, Iurupari, saw their plight and was resolved to ease their sadness. Every night, in their dreams, Iurupari would bring them together. In the dream world they grew closer and their love became stronger."

"One day, the warrior could not stand to be physically separate from the woman he loved any longer and went to her tribe's land. When her tribe caught him, they were greatly angry, and sentenced him to die. The woman who loved him, helpless to save his life, clung to him and refused to let go."

"Then Iurupari appeared in fire and storm. He waved his hand, and the spirits of the two lovers left their bodies. He gathered them up and spirited them away to the next world." the woman finished.

"That's so sad." said Moze.

"Well, yes," said the woman. "They could have gotten over each other, found someone else in their own tribes, lived longer, but then what kind of story would that be?"

"But, everyone would have been happy." said Moze.

"No." corrected the woman. "They would have missed each other for the rest of their lives."

"Oh, that's right," said Moze. "And he lives right next door."

"What?" said Faymen.

"They took a risk and it didn't pan out," said the Brazilian woman. "But if you don't take any risks, nothing great is ever going to happen to you."

"Got it!" said Faymen. He managed to pull the sword out of the woodwork and free the woman. The woman booked out of the theater, shouting for la policia.

"Wait!" shouted Moze. "Did the woman in red say where she was going?"

"I think I know." said Faymen, holding the sword delicately. "This is a katana."

"Oh," said Moze. "Isn't that a samurai sword?"

"Yes." said Faymen. "Samurai are the warrior class of Japan."

"To Japan." said Moze. "Or rather, the Japanese Enclosure."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the Indian Enclosure:<p>

Ned, Suzie, and Loomer were searching through a replica of the Chola Temple.

"This is incredible." said Suzie. "It's like the Jungle Book."

"That makes sense." said Loomer, "It was set in the Indian rainforest."

"You've read the Jungle Book?" asked Suzie, skeptically.

"After I started applying myself more in English, I discovered I was a huge Rudyard Kipling fan." said Loomer.

The conversation went on without Ned's involvement. Which was just as well, his mind was on other things. Part of him was wondering where was Carmen Sandiego. Part of him was focused on the feeling of Suzie's hand in his. Part of him was focused on Moze being with Faymen in Brazil. He felt worry about the caper, jealousy of Faymen, guilt about thinking of her when he was with Suzie, happiness that Suzie was back, guilt about being happy that Suzie was back when he had been admitted to himself that he liked Moze, confusion about whether or not admitting this constituted an abrogation of the boyfriend and/or best friend code. Maybe when he found the Book of Love it would have a flowchart.

"What did happen to Loom- ah, William?" Suzie whispered to him, surreptitiously. "He's changed. Like, bitten-by-a-werewolf changed."

"Oh," said Ned. "It started with a pie vending machine -."

He was cut off by a scream coming from the faux jungle. Reflexively, Ned and Loomer grabbed each other, sandwiching Suzie between them.

"Tiger!" they screamed.

"What?" asked Suzie. "Here? Don't be ridiculous." She pried herself out from between them and made her way into the jungle.

The boys followed, resolving to later explain to Suzie the domestic threat of tigers. They all followed the screaming to a tree, which had a woman in its branches.

"What are you doing up there?" asked Suzie.

"I was chased up here." said the Indian woman wearing a purple sari that was badly roughed up from her climb. "A crazy lady in a red overcoat chased after me with a truncheon."

"Well," said Suzie, looking around. "She's gone, now. You can come down."

"I will wait here until the constable comes." said the woman, hugging the tree branch.

"What did she want?" asked Ned.

"She wanted me to translate a book." said the treed woman. "It was full of charts and figures and instructions for dancing."

"Well, that's unhelpful." said Ned.

"Truncheon…" said Loomer, thoughtfully. "I've heard that before."

"She also wanted me to explain the story of Sohni and Mahiwal." said the treed woman.

"Ah, yes." said Suzie. "Them. Of course, I know it. Just for Ned's benefit –"

"Hey!"

"Why don't you repeat the story?"

"Sohni and Mahiwal were potters." she began. "She was promised in marriage to another man."

"So, naturally, they fell in love." filled in Ned.

"Naturally," said the treed woman. "They lived on opposite sides of a river. In the dark of the night, Mahiwal would swim over the river to see Sohni. One night he was caught and Sohni's husband stabbed him in the heart."

"Sohni dragged his body to her kiln and fashioned a new heart for him out of clay. She fired it in her kiln and put it in his chest and he came back to life."

"However, her husband's rage had not abated, and when he next saw her, he threw her in the river and she was attacked by Gharials."

"Gharilas?" asked Ned.

"Crocodile with prognathous snout." filled in the treed woman. "When Mahiwal woke up, she was bleeding heavily. So he repaired her wounds with ceramic patches. Then they both roped a Gharial and it pulled them to a new village down river where they lived out the rest of their lives, happily and with each other."

"Good story." said Ned. "If somewhat implausible."

"Adherence to reality isn't of paramount importance." said the treed woman. "What's important is what you learn from the story."

"Yeah, of course," said Suzie. "I get it, but for Ned's benefit -."

"Hey!"

"Can you explain it?"

"What the potter molds by hand is an extension of themselves," said the treed woman. "Those parts were ingrained into other people. She became a part of him. He became a part of her. That's what love does."

Ned remembered back to when he told Moze he was going to start applying himself in school. She had walked him through her patented scheduling and study regiment. He followed it to the letter and now he got all his assignments in early and aced every test. That part of him that was studious came from Moze. He wondered if there was anything she had gotten from him. She must have, they had known each other their entire lives. How much of him was her? How much of her was him? How much of him belonged with her?

"Truncheon!" Loomer shouted. "It's a club used by British law enforcement. Anyone else would just call it a club, but tree lady is clued in because India was once governed by Britain."

"And?" asked Ned.

"Carmen Sandiego is in the British Enclosure!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the Japanese Enclosure:<p>

The samurai warrior blocked a blade that came within an inch of his jugular, then another that made a slice for his leg. He struck a body blow to his opponent, relieving him of one of his legs. It was all very humdrum, but had Faymen's rapt attention. Like every man who has ever lived, he had a weakness for theatrical violence.

"How are we going to find Carmen Sandiego if you're focused on the samurai exhibition?" asked a disappointed Moze.

"She might decide to kidnap one of the samurai and question him." said Faymen, still focused on the exhibition.

"A man with a sword? In front of a crowd?" asked Moze. She was being snippier than usual. Even if there wasn't a caper going on, this enclosure reminded her of the bet Ned won against her with his project on Japan. The image of him in popsicle stick armor kept distracting her from the villainess crisis and made her think about her romantic crisis. She was distracted from her romantic crisis and back onto the villainess by shouting coming from a nearby shrine. She ran over, ran back, grabbed Faymen, and ran over with him in tow.

The pursuit of the anguished screams took them to the Zen garden behind the shrine. Sitting underneath a large, presumably sacred tree was a priestess. She was clutching one shoulder and her kimono was stained red, presumably with blood.

"Quick, Faymen!" said Moze, running up to the bleeding priestess. "I need a bandage!"

"I don't have a –," _Rip!_ "You're welcome."

"What happened?" asked Moze, putting pressure on the wound.

"I was attacked…by a woman in a red kimono" said the priestess. "She wanted me to translate a book. It was full of flowcharts and diagrams."

"I'll go find a medic." said Faymen, and he ran off.

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" asked Moze. "Do you know where she's going?"

"No idea." said the priestess. "The only thing I even remember from translating her book was the story of Tanabata."

"Who is that?" asked Moze.

"It's the story of a Princess and an Oxherd." said the priestess. "They are in love, but they became so focused on each other they neglected their other duties. The Emperor looked out of his castle one day to find there were oxen running wild over the rice fields. He was enraged and moved them to opposite sides of the universe."

"The Universe?" asked Moze. "What was he emperor of?"

"They were miserable without each other." the priestess continued. "For months the Princess begged the Emperor to return the Oxherd. He relented, and made them a deal. If they are dutiful in fulfilling their responsibilities then he will give them one day together on the seventh day of the seventh month of the year."

"That's horrible!" said Moze. "One day a year!"

"Some people don't get to see their true love ever again," said the priestess. "True, it's not particularly happy, but the story is about the pain love can exact. That deep, abiding, ponderous, burning ache when the person you love isn't with you anymore."

Moze thought back to when Ned first started dating Suzie and he hadn't spent as much time with her. She had flipped out. Cookie-level flipped out.

Faymen ran back into the garden, two medics with a stretcher in tow. Moze stood back as they loaded up the priestess and tended to her wound. A team of police officers descended on the scene.

"That woman is causing chaos from Argentina to Zimbabwe." said one of the officers. "If only she would stumble into the North Korean Enclosure."

"That woman," said the priestess, reaching out for Moze from her stretcher as they carried her away. "She got away on a bicycle."

"Great," said Moze. "That's a clue. Which countries have bicycles?"

"The ones that have people with feet." said Faymen. "Bicycles are the most popular mode of transportation in the world. Every country in the world sponsors bike races. Several countries use bicycles to the exclusion of cars."

"That's it!" cried Moze. "A bike race! The most famous bike race! The Tour de France!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the British Enclosure:<p>

Ned, Suzie, and Loomer were searching through a replica of Royal Hyde Park. Suzie was searching through a grove of Yew trees. Loomer was trying, unsuccessfully, to open up a blue police call box. Ned was searching a hedgerow.

He came upon a pedestal in the middle of a flower bed. He had seen several of them in the garden. All the other ones had generals perched on them, posed heroically, but this one was empty. Ned saw it still had a plaque on it. It read 'BOOJUM'. Maybe, the statue was taken away for cleaning.

He heard a groan behind the pedestal, and looked over it to see a man lying prostrate in the agapanthus. He was wearing suit and waistcoat with a Windsor tie. There was a watch chain trailing from his breast pocket. He had an impressive moustache. Ned felt the overwhelming urge to call him Jeeves.

He gave the man a shake.

"Jeeves!" he said. "Who did this to you? Was she wearing red?"

"How do you know my name?" asked the man, slurring his words together. "There was a lady…" he trailed off and started snoring.

Loomer and Suzie ran up to find Ned shaking the man.

"What's going on?" asked Loomer. "Did Carmen Sandiego get him?"

"Doubtful," said Suzie, picking up a wine bottle from under a fern. She turned it upside down experimentally; nothing came out.

Jeeves woke up suddenly.

"Yes! Carmen! That was her Name." he shouted. "She gave me a bottle o' bubbly for translating a passage of a book she had." He passed out again.

Ned turned him on his side and stood back up.

"That doesn't make sense." said Ned. "Why would she need to translate a passage that's already in English?"

"Maybe it was in British English?" suggested Loomer.

"Seriously, Loomer?" said Suzie. "She needed an interpreter for British English?"

"It was about a Snark." said Jeeves, coming to.

"A what?" asked Ned.

"A creature that tastes meager, yet hollow, but crisp." said Jeeves. "Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist, with a flavor of will-o-the-wisp. It has a fondness for bathing machines, which it constantly carries about, it is said to improve the beauty of scenes; a sentiment open to doubt. Some have whiskers that scratch and some have feathers that bite. If you're snark is a snark that is right. Bring it home by all means. You can serve it with greens, and it's handy for striking a light." He passed back out.

They pondered this for a minute. Suzie turned to Loomer.

"I owe you an apology," said Suzie.

"What was the story?" asked Ned, giving Jeeves a nudge with his foot.

"It's the story of the Snark that was a Boojum." mumbled Jeeves. "Once upon a time, there was a Boojum…" he trailed off. "I forget the rest of the story." He belched. "There was a moral, but I forget that, too."

"Nice," said Ned. "Our only lead has given us more questions than answers, and he won't be sober for …" he paused, "What was in that bottle?"

"Champagne," said Suzie, examining the label. "So, 16 to 18 hours."

"Ah, you kids today," groaned Jeeves. "So obsessed with clear cut answers and logical solutions. With all your… your…thinking and worrying and lists of pros and cons and…and…worrying about things not working out or…or…"

"Signs?" asked Ned.

"Signs!" said Jeeves. "And after all that careful consideration, trying to make everyone happy, making sure nothing goes wrong; Do you have what you really want?"

"No…" said Ned.

"What?" asked Suzie and Loomer.

"Nothing!" said Ned. "Where is she headed now?"

"Champagne," said Suzie, holding up the bottle.

"Yes!" said Jeeves.

"No," said Suzie. "Champagne was first made in the Champagne region of France. It was the first carbonated beverage; the precursor to soda pop."

"So, she's on her way to the French Enclosure!" said Ned.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting over the World Showcase. The lights were going on in the French Enclosure. Under the Arc du Triomphe, Cookie and Lisa looked around for trouble. They were in bad shape: their clothes were in tatters, they were smeared with ashes, they were bleeding in various places, and Cookie was limping slightly. It was here and in this condition, they ran into, or rather were run into by, Ned, Loomer, and Suzie.<p>

"Cookie!" shouted Ned, hugging him.

Cookie gave a groan of pain at the embrace.

"What happened to you two?" asked Suzie.

"It was horrible," said Cookie.

"But so exciting!" chimed in Lisa.

"We went to the Canadian Enclosure."

"An Aleut woman was being chased by walrus."

"We tried to lure them away."

"Simon was so brave! He got gored by a tusk."

"Lisa was amazing! She tackled a big one to the ground."

"Which is how we found a shrunken head."

"That led us to the Indonesian Enclosure."

"There were headhunters there. They thought we were the ones who attacked a tribe woman. So, they chased us."

"We got away. We found a giraffe."

"That led us to the Botswanan Enclosure."

"Where we were chased by a herd of giraffe."

"But a werewolf attacked them."

"And that led us to the French Enclosure," finished Lisa.

"Can you expatiate on the werewolf?" asked Loomer.

"Those _cannot_ be real," said Suzie. "How do you know it was a werewolf?"

"She introduced herself," said Cookie.

"What happened to you guys?" asked Moze, who had just arrived with Faymen.

"Moze!" yelled Ned, running to hold her. "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" asked Moze. She looked down at herself and realized she was still covered in the priestess's blood. "Oh, this isn't mine."

"We must be close," said Loomer. "We all found our way to the same enclosure. Though, I'm still unclear how you make the French werewolf connection."

"It got me thinking of the story of the beast that turns into a man," said Lisa. "The French have a story about a man who was turned into a beast. He was so hideous that no one could stand to be around him. There was one woman that came to live in his castle, as payment for saving her father. The longer she lived there, the more she understood him, the more she grew to love him, and the more she loved him was the more beautiful he became."

"That's the power of love," said Cookie. "It beautifies. It changes everything completely and for the better."

"I agree," said Ned. "Specifically, about being close. This is Paris: the City of Love."

"That seems like the logical place to find the Book of Love," admitted Moze.

"Has anyone seen Ms. Frizzle?" asked Ned.

"We haven't," said Cookie.

"Nope," said Moze.

"Has anyone even seen Carmen Sandiego?" asked Ned.

"Nope."

"Nu-uh."

"Well, this is probably our last chance to stop her," said Ned.

"How do you figure?" asked Loomer.

"That," Ned pointed to the Eiffel Tower replica. It was a perfect facsimile. "That is the tallest structure in the park. If she wanted to make an aerial escape, that's the place to do it. Earlier she released a decoy red hot air balloon at high noon. The perfect double-bluff would be a black cold air balloon at night."

"Cold air?"

"I mean helium."

"That makes more sense," admitted Moze. "All of it. But what are we going to do? Guard the Eiffel Tower? Wait until someone else screams about being attacked by a red menace?"

"We need to get ahead of her," said Ned. "She'll probably want something translated from the book, but who would she get to do that?"

"All the other people she accosted were people from the parent countries," said Lisa.

"They were all women," chimed in Faymen.

"Cookie," said Ned. "Can you pull up an employee list for the World Showcase and tabulate a list of female employees from France?"

"On it," said Cookie. He stared off into his glasses for a few seconds, fiddling with his handheld. "That narrows it down to forty-seven people."

"She managed to get them all alone," said Suzie. "Look for people that usually work independently."

Cookie clicked a few more buttons.

"That narrows it down to a handful of maintenance workers, an archivist, a chef, and a few gendamerie."

"What's a gendamerie?" asked Loomer.

"Doesn't matter," interrupted Ned. "Archivist is just a fancy word for librarian. That's her target for translating the book."

* * *

><p>Carmen Sandiego raced down the streets of faux Paris, at all times keeping the Eiffel Tower in view. This was her final stop before she left the park. Soon it would be dark enough for her to make her escape. It had been a productive day. She'd caused chaos and devastation from Cairo to Canada. It made her feel nostalgic from when she terrorized the actual countries. This wasn't integral to the plan, but she had some time to kill before nightfall and she figured if she deciphered some of the book she'd have more information to misuse.<p>

She found the book shop she was looking for and ducked inside, locking the door behind her. The shop was wall to wall with books, lit by a gas-lamp chandelier dangling from the center of the ceiling. At the far side of the room was a heavy wooden desk. Behind that, a high back chair, facing away from Carmen Sandiego. She could barely see the top of a blond head done up in a bun over the head rest.

"Hello dear," she said, pulling a truncheon out of her coat. "I was hoping you could look at a book for me. It has a table I can't seem to crack."

The chair swiveled to face her, revealing Ned in a blond wig.

"What the -," said Carmen Sandiego, staggering back.

"Good evening, Carmen Sandiego," said Ned, steepling his fingers. "The gendamerie are on their way. It turns out the gendamerie are the French domestic security, like the police."

"What is this?" said Carmen Sandiego. "A school trip?"

"Yeah," said Ned. "We're supposed to learn something."

"Well, learn this!" yelled Carmen Sandiego, bolting for the door. "No one catches Carmen Sandiego!"

She dashed into the street and booked toward the Eiffel Tower. She raced down the streets, looking back occasionally to make sure she wasn't being pursued by a teenage sleuth or gendamerie. She stopped short when she ran into a crowd that was blocking her escape route. At first she thought it was an ambush, but it was just a crowd watching a man juggling knives. She saw an alley and ran into it. The alley was empty, she could see the Eiffel Tower on the horizon. Just a short dash away.

"End of the line Carmen Sandiego," shouted Moze, she appeared at the end of the alley with Faymen, Suzie, and Loomer.

Carmen Sandiego stopped, pivoted and started running back the other way.

"No dice, Carmen Sandiego," said Ned appearing in front of her, sans wig, with Cookie and Lisa. She was blocked on both sides now.

"We knew you'd take the quickest route to the Eiffel Tower," said Cookie. "We slipped one of the street performers a $10 to block the main road to divert you into this alley."

"To which the gendamerie are headed," finished Moze with a flourish. "The gendamerie are the French domestic security force -."

"I know!" shouted Carmen Sandiego. She pulled a large book out from inside her jacket. "I guess you want this?" her other hand pulled a gun out of her inner jacket pocket. "Well, tough luck. I'm getting out of here."

She fired the gun into the air. It wasn't a bullet, it was a grappling hook that landed on the roof above. The rope retracted and pulled her up into the air.

"Bon Soir, gumshoes," said Carmen Sandiego.

"Bon Soir," said a voice from the roof.

The all looked up.

"Ms. Frizzle!" her students cried.

Carmen Sandiego looked up in time to see Ms. Frizzle sliding down her escape rope. She didn't even have time to look shocked before Ms. Frizzle's shoe collided with her face.

They both landed in the street below, Ms. Frizzle landing more delicately than Carmen Sandiego. The book flew out of her grasp. Moze ran forward and scooped up the damaged tome. Ned and Loomer ran forward and tied up Carmen Sandiego's wrists and ankles.

"Good work, students," said Ms. Frizzle.

As the gendamerie ran up the alley, they celebrated with high-fives all around and hugging each other in relief.

* * *

><p>It was night, and the French Enclosure was lit up like a diamond studded disco ball. In the main square of the enclosure, a band was playing and the crowd was dancing. The upbeat tempo and the endless pastries had the party in full swing.<p>

Cookie and Lisa were dancing through the main square, not caring about their tattered clothes or various injuries, completely lost in each other's eyes. Cookie's gaze broke long enough to see a depressed Faymen sitting by a fountain.

"What's up Faymen?" asked Cookie, halting the dance, but still not letting go of Lisa.

"Jennifer," said Faymen. "She told me she couldn't go out with me anymore. She was in love with someone else."

"Really?" asked Cookie, in no way surprised. "Sorry Faymen."

"Eh, it's not so bad," said Faymen, with a shrug. "I got a call yesterday from home. I was offered a positon on the Brazilian National Soccer Team. I wasn't sure if I should go there or stay with Jennifer. Soccer is very important to me. Now, I can follow my dream."

"Well, that wrapped up nicely," said Lisa. She looked around the plaza. "Where is Jennifer?"

* * *

><p>From the top of the Eiffel Tower, Ms. Frizzle and Moze watched the revelry bellow. Hundreds of bodies swayed to the rhythm looking like an ocean of colorful currents illuminated by the warm glow of street lights.<p>

"The ICL was very grateful for our help," said Ms. Frizzle. "They'll be making a donation to the James K. Polk Extracurricular budget, and taking care of the bill for this field trip."

"Is that the new book?" asked Moze, nodding at the tablet Ms. Frizzle was holding.

"Yep," said Ms. Frizzle, holding up the tablet. The screen illuminated to reveal the title page of 'The Book of Love: eBook Edition.' "Adapted for a new century. Full digital, translated into consistent, uniform language, with metric measurements, helpful footnotes, indexed for easy research, and annotated by experts in the field."

"So, now that the book has been fixed up," asked Moze, "will we finally understand love?"

"The ICL had good intentions," said Ms. Frizzle turning away from the railing, gazing down sadly at the tablet. "But I don't think we'll ever make a manual for love. There are things about love that are too complicated to put into words, and there are things about love too dumb to write down. Sooner or later, everyone understands love, but the only way to do that is to live through it, experience it, let it take over; it's a very scary, very wonderful thing."

Moze looked over the railing again to the dancing crowd below. She mulled it over and dove right in.

"You said there was one more test," she said.

"And you want to go through with it?" asked Ms. Frizzle.

"Yes," said Moze, steeling her resolve, and trying to disguise her fear.

"Very well," said Ms. Frizzle, as she walked towards the staircase. "Wait here." and she went down the stairs.

* * *

><p>Ned watched Suzie dancing around in the Parisian square. She had been through a lot today, overcome every challenge and was ecstatic; dancing for joy. Ned, on the other hand, still had one final hurdle to straddle.<p>

"This is awesome!" she said, running up to him. "I'm so glad to be back."

She kissed him. He felt familiar butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't like kissing Moze. How could you feel butterflies with one person and fireworks for someone else?

She broke the kiss and stood there, smiling at him. His brain started doing a weird sort of math. Probably resembling one of the formulas in the Book of Love. Fireworks are bigger than butterflies. He cared about Suzie. He wanted her to be happy. Breaking up would hurt her, but he wouldn't be as happy with her. He deserved to be happy as much as she did. She deserved someone who thought she was a firework, not someone who wanted someone else.

"I'm so glad you're back, Suzie," said Ned. "I'm glad we can be friends again."

"Excuse me?" asked Suzie, her smile slipping away.

"I just want to be friends," he continued, "the thing is I'm in love -."

"You –" she was scowling now.

"Hey, Suzie," said Loomer, emerging from the crowd. He held a hand out to her. "Wanna dance?"

She gave him a hard look. He as very different from the Loomer she broke up with so long ago. She did her own quick calculation.

"Why not?" she said, then she took his hand and merged with the dancing crowd.

"Well, that worked out nicely," said Ms. Frizzle, appearing beside him.

"Yeah, for everyone else," said Ned depressed. There were couples everywhere, silently mocking him. Cookie and Lisa were swaying to the rhythm. Missy and Crony were dancing with each other. Clair and Backpack Boy were sambaing around. Evelyn and Seth sashayed around the square. And now Loomer and Suzie.

"Well, look on the bright side," said Ms. Frizzle.

"How?" asked Ned.

"Change your perspective," she equivocated.

"To what?" he asked.

"Right now you're at the bottom looking up," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You need to go to the top and look down." And she pointed to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

* * *

><p>After an arduous climb, Ned was at the top of the Eiffel tower. Why couldn't they have rebuilt it with an elevator?<p>

There was someone else up there when he arrived. She was leaned over the railing, looking at the party below.

Ned thought the view was spectacular. It wasn't the lights of Paris below, or the hundreds of dancers, moving to the rhythm, but the gentle light that illuminated Moze's face.

"Hi," he said.

She looked up, and smiled at him.

"Hey," she said. "Why aren't you with Suzie?"

"I left Suzie," he answered, walking up to her.

She looked surprised.

"Where's Faymen?" he asked.

"I left him." she answered. After an awkward silence: "Why...are you here?" she asked, in a tremulous tone, like she was afraid of the answer. From down on the ground, a sweet, soulful melody started up. The people in the crowd below started swaying slowly.

Ned's mind was still a mess of What Ifs, Maybes, and Could It Bes, but there was one part of him that knew exactly what to do, and it got control of his mouth.

"Do you want to dance with me?" he asked, offering her his hand.

Moze hesitated. She knew the question meant a lot more than what he asked.

"But," she asked, "what about Suzie?"

"I want to dance with you," he said. "Only with you."

Moze felt a sensation deep inside her chest. It was like a flood gate had opened and a torrent was spreading through her body. In spite of the magnitude of the flood, it's only visible appearance was a tear going down her cheek. And the flood swept all the doubt away.

She reached out and took his hand. He pulled her closer to him and they wound their arms around each other. She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and they started to sway with the rhythm from the ground.

At some level, Moze new there was more to come; both good and bad. They would have to tell everyone. There would be some teasing. There would be hand holding in public. Her parents would insist on supervision when she went over to Ned's house. There would be phone calls that would last all night. They would have to deal with Suzie. She would be getting heart shaped candies on Valentine's Day.

Right now though, those thoughts didn't even enter her mind. It was only her and Ned, and the feeling of exhilaration racing through her body. Her heart felt so full. A smile kept tugging on her lips.

Ned pulled back slightly and looked deeply into her eyes. His hand rose to touch her face. His thumb wiped away the tear that had fallen earlier.

They both moved together slowly and kissed. Ned could feel Moze smile briefly against his lips.

Overhead, fireworks went off.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>


End file.
